


Pictures of People Taking Pictures

by avenging_cap



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bad pop culture references bc i have no self control, Bucky can't control his inner monologue, Bucky is a cute photographer, Friends to Lovers, Gallivanting around NYC, M/M, Mild Angst, Model AU, Photographer AU, Sorta Slow-Burn, steve is a hot model
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-12 12:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11161902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avenging_cap/pseuds/avenging_cap
Summary: When Bucky lands his dream job at SHIELD magazine, he isn’t expecting to befriend a model, let alone fall in love with one. But as it happens, Bucky comes to see that there is more to models than first meets the eye.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky lands his dream job and encounters some other dreamy things along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is part of the 2017 Captain America Reverse Big Bang!  
> I have a few people to thank, as this fic wouldn't be possible without them...  
> The RBB mods- You have all been so helpful in setting up the bang. Thank you for making it such a smooth ride!
> 
> [Lunarelles](http://lunarelles.tumblr.com/), the artist of the inspiration for the fic- Thank you for birthing this wonderful idea and for being so kind and helpful along the way. Your guidance and ideas have been invaluable throughout this whole process. Also, thank you for betaing the fic and positive comments! You're the best!
> 
> My betas/bffs: [Caitlin](http://jubillee.tumblr.com/), Cate, Carolyn, and Emma- Thank you for your endless support and understanding of my random sentences and mistakes. You guys make me look good. Thank you.
> 
> Disclaimer: I know nothing about fashion and models, so I'm sorry if I've made up some details!

_I pictured us at the end of time_

_Holding up a camera to our eyes_

_I took a picture of you took a picture of me_

_In the background of the picture_

_Was water running to the sea_

_-“Pictures of People Taking Pictures” by Jack Johnson_

 

  


* * *

 

Living in Brooklyn is hard for Bucky Barnes. On the surface, it’s no different than living pretty much anywhere else; people mind their own business, there’s good food on every corner, and the surroundings are nice enough to make Bucky look up from his phone every once in awhile. Maybe it’s just hard for Bucky because it’s hard to be a “hipster” in Brooklyn. _Everyone_ here is hip, fresh, cool, and trying to make a name for themselves, just like him.

 

To make matters worse, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of photographers living in New York. It’s rare that he leaves his house without seeing a photo shoot, whether it’s amateur or professional. There are enough hipsters in Brooklyn that Bucky even had to wait in line to take pictures in front of the YO sculpture in the Brooklyn Bridge Park once.

 

Undeniably, life is rough for Bucky. It’s made rougher by the fact that he hasn’t had a freelance job in weeks, and his current internship at _Vogue_ is ending in a few days. He never thought he’d end up taking photos of fashion and _models_ of all things, but it seems to be the only place he can get work in this city.

 

Landscape photographers all live and work in exotic places and take photos of animals and mountains. In Brooklyn, the lifestyle photographers are all way cooler than him, and there are way too many portrait photographers to compete with.

 

So, that’s how Bucky got stuck in the fashion business, working with snotty models,  
rude bosses, and even snottier interns. For two months. Now, in just three days, his gig is up, and he’s got to find a new job, fast.

 

Yet here he is, on his second to last day at _Vogue_ , still unsure of what that job is going to be.

 

He’s sitting at his desk when Abigail, one of his few friends here, interrupts him.

 

“HSY it?” As usual, Abigail’s homemade acronyms fly right over Bucky’s head. She clarifies, “Have you seen the job postings board?” She sits down on his desk and spreads out her hot pink dress. Her wild, curly red hair is up in a bun today, and she’s sporting a matching hot pink scrunchie.

 

“How could you see it without your glasses?” he jokes, having noticed the absence of  
her usual polka dotted frames.

 

When she frowns at him, he replies honestly, “I've been a little scared to look.”

 

“There's one for a fashion photographer at _SHIELD_ magazine…” Despite her initial  
sigh, her eyes light up in excitement.

 

“You're joking? Fashion? At _SHIELD_?” Bucky can’t hide his disbelief. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, so he dismisses this as one of her frequent pranks.

 

“Why don't you see for yourself?” she grabs his hand and leads him, as if dragging a coat over her shoulder, to the board.

 

“It looks like a one-time gig, but it’s your dream job, Bucky.”

 

She’s right. _SHIELD_ magazine has always been his dream. He knew he’d never make it to the likes of _National Geographic_ \- he wasn't into travel photography, and frankly, not that good at it - but _SHIELD_ was an attainable dream for him. _SHIELD_ is the second most circulated magazine, behind _People_ , but more importantly, their photography is world renowned.

 

Even an opportunity to be a part of one piece would be an honor.

 

Abigail rips off one of the information tabs.

 

“All you have to do is contact,” she paused and squints her eyes to read better, “Natsha Romiof?”

 

Bucky snatches the paper from her hands. “You need your glasses.” he clears his  
throat, then continues, “Natasha Romanoff at blackwidow@shieldmag.com”

 

“That’s a little scary, don't ya think?” Abigail remarks, then flits away.

 

“Yeah, it is.” Bucky mutters to himself, then returns to his seat to draft what could be the most important email of his life.

 

****

“So you applied for that job at _SHIELD_?”

 

“Yup,” Bucky sighs into the phone.

 

It’s only been a few hours, but he’s been religiously checking his email for the past hour. So far there’s been no response from the mysterious Natasha, or Black Widow, as he’s been referring to her as in his head. He should be hearing back soon, though. Bucky realized after sending his email that he had just barely made the application deadline. That’s either fate at work or a very bad omen.

 

He’ll just have to wait and see.

 

“This could be great for you! I’m happy for you, man.” Bucky can almost hear Sam smiling through the phone.

 

“Thanks.” Bucky tries his best to sound genuine, but he sucks at talking on the phone.

 

“You know, there’s always a spot here for you at Falcon.” Although there is a hint of humor in his voice, Bucky knows Sam’s offer is sincere.

 

“Remind me why would I want to work with a bunch of losers?” Bucky says, keeping the conversation light.

 

Sam scoffs. “Remind me why I’m friends with you?”

 

“Because I’m buying you dinner tomorrow night with my last paycheck from _Vogue_?” Bucky deadpans.

 

“Right,” Sam laughs, “Let the poor friend pay for the rich one. Makes sense. See you then.”

 

With that, Sam promptly hangs up.

 

It does seem a little silly that Bucky offered to pay for dinner for his CEO friend.

 

Sam’s company, Falcon Sportswear, took off last year. It all started with the shoes: Falcon Kicks. They were ugly little things: chunky and white with red wings on the sides. However, to the fashion world they were art and to the sports world they were high quality sneakers.

 

Since then, Sam has made more shoes and full clothing lines, all manufactured in his own factories in the US. He treats all of his workers as friends and makes sure their lives are going okay. It’s something Sam prides himself on.

 

Despite how many times he’s asked, Sam has never given Bucky a straight answer as to why exactly he chose “falcon.” Bucky’s convinced Sam is a secret birdwatcher.

 

Now, Falcon Sportswear rivals Nike and Adidas as one of the top sports brands. Sam’s living large in a penthouse in Manhattan, but he still makes time for “the little guys,” as he likes to put it.

 

Bucky hopes to have good news to share with him tomorrow as he refreshes his email for what feels like, and probably is, the hundredth time.

 

When his eyes catch the name of the sender, his heart rate increases a few hundred beats.

 

 **TO** : buckobarnes@hotmail.com

 **FROM** : blackwidow@shieldmag.com

Dear Mr. Barnes,

        I am happy to inform you that you have been chosen to shoot model Steve Rogers for the “Fresh Faces in Fashion” issue of _SHIELD_ magazine. We need to meet prior to the photo shoot so you can be notified of the expectations of the photographer at such a shoot. If your work at the “Fresh Faces” photo shoot is up to par, you may be put in the running for a more permanent job here at _SHIELD_. It is to be noted that, at such a reputable magazine, not just any work is considered exceptional. Be ready to work your hardest.

        I will see you at the Starbucks on the ground floor of the _SHIELD_ building tomorrow at 4:30pm.

Good Luck,

Natasha Romanoff

_Director of Photography_

_SHIELD Magazine_

 

_****_

Bucky has never felt so anxious riding the subway before. He’s wearing a suit, as he has to go directly to his meeting with Black Widow, er, Natasha – he really should stop calling her Black Widow if he’s going to work with her – after work. Last night he’d called Sam immediately after the email back, and they’d yelled together over the phone. They subsequently decided to head out clubbing rather than simply go out for dinner. They need to _celebrate_.

 

Of course, upon arriving at work, Bucky is immediately greeted by Abigail, who, today, is adorned with her usual polka dot glasses.

 

“WTS?” Seeing Bucky’s confused expression, she clarifies, “Why the suit?”

 

“You’ll never believe it…”

 

“You got the job? That fast?” She doesn’t seem to believe him.

 

“Turns out I applied with an hour to spare. By the email I got back, I think they are very picky with who they hire. It must not have taken long to weed out the undesirables. I guess I fit the mold.”

 

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.” Abigail is literally dancing around the office. Everyone is staring, but she doesn’t care.

 

“Thanks, Abs.” He winces, realizing that this is their last day together.

Abigail seems to have realized the same thing because she says, “Are you gonna miss this place? Like, I know _SHIELD_  is your dream job and all, but do you think you’d ever come back?”

 

“I don’t know. Maybe, like, one day.” He laughs, mimicking her usual teenager-esque way of speaking.

 

“Stop it!” She shoves him. “You know, I don’t get you.”

 

“What’s not to get?” Bucky smirks.

 

“You’re so serious, but when it comes to me you never stop making jokes,” she pauses thoughtfully, then continues, “Bucky Barnes: the seriously least serious person ever.”

 

Bucky laughs, throwing his head back the way he only does when he’s really and truly amused. “You got me.”

 

“You never answered my question.” Abigail grumbles.

 

Bucky stops to think. He never really felt like he fit in at _Vogue_ . Sure, he’s done some of his best work here and discovered what may be his calling, but it never meant anything to him. _Vogue_ has never been anything more than a helpful distraction on the way to his real life. Even so, he will miss the food. And Abigail.

 

“I think so.” He says finally.

 

They stare at each other for a moment before sporadically enveloping each other into a hug.

 

“I’m gonna miss you,” she whispers into his hair.

 

“I’m going to miss you too. Thanks for being so nice to me.”

 

“Why are you being serious now?” Abigail pulls away.

 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “For real, Abby, you’re still allowed to text me. Anytime.”

 

“I know. I’ll hang around your desk extra-long today after lunch, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

She leaves with less of her usual grandeur, but she does keep her promise to spend extra time with him on his last day. Bucky really is going to miss her.

 

Just before he has to go, he goes to the bathroom to freshen up.

 

After rinsing off his face, Bucky examines his hair. He’s left it out of its normal bun today to ensure that he looks respectable. Man-buns are fine for trendy fashion magazines, but not for the likes of _SHIELD_. Maybe once he gets a solid job there, but not for first impressions.

 

He’s done his best to cover up his eyebags, which Sam say make him look like a brainwashed serial killer. Oddly specific, but accurate. His suit is freshly pressed and fits him well, but he still fusses with it for a few minutes.

 

Once he’s decided that he looks put together, he leaves the bathroom, and _Vogue_ , for the last time before setting out in the direction of his future.

 

The _SHIELD_ building is only a few blocks away, so Bucky decides to walk. He has so much nervous energy that he doubts he’d be able to sit in a cab.

 

Once he reaches the doors, he hesitates. What if this is a test? What if he messes up and loses the job?

 

A voice behind him seems to have noticed his fear. “Deep breaths, Buddy.” A man in a suit and dark sunglasses says, “We all get nervous on our first day.”

 

“How did you know?” Bucky says incredulously, though he is relieved to see someone else in a suit around here. He was terrified he’d be overdressed.

 

“It’s my job to know a lot of things around here.” Without further explanation, he slips inside, and Bucky follows suit.

 

The moment Bucky enters the Starbucks, he knows he’s out of his depth.

 

First of all, the coffee shop is filled with people who are much cooler than him and all of the people at _Vogue_ combined.

 

Second of all, he sees the woman who has to be Natasha waving him over in a far corner. Wearing jeans and a sweater. He is ridiculously overdressed.

 

Third of all, he is at _SHIELD_ magazine for a real reason.

 

But damn, is Bucky overdressed.

 

He makes his way over to Natasha, face flushing. She stands up to shake his hand and shows a hint of a smile.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, James. Please, sit.”

 

Bucky’s legs are actually shaking.

 

“You can call me Bucky. I’m sorry I’m so overdressed, I thought I’d be fine when I saw this guy in a suit and sunglasses walking in? But I guess not, I’m sorry, this is so embarrassing. It’s really nice to meet you too, Natasha - Ms. Romanoff - Ma’am.” If his face was flushed before, it’s surely reached a fever pitch now.

 

But Natasha, as cool as ever, just flips her red hair over her shoulder and continues on with the conversation. “You must have met Mr. Coulson. He’s an executive here at _SHIELD_ and insists on overdressing every day. This is just a magazine, you know.”

 

Maybe it’s Natasha’s cool-girl air or the fact that he is talking about working his dream job with her or the fact that she called _SHIELD_ JUST a magazine, but Bucky’s mouth is so dry that he can’t make out a response.

 

“So, the photo shoot,” she begins, “It’s featuring up and coming models and photographers to try to give them more exposure. It’s going to be this Monday, beginning at 7:00 am. I trust you will be as punctual as you were for this meeting.”

 

“Yes Ma’am.” he says, mostly out of habit, but also because he hasn’t talked to someone this forceful since his mom.

 

“No need for the formalities, _Bucky_. Ms. Romanoff will do.” Her smile is kind, but also has a hint of ice. “As I was saying, you will be expected to be on time for the shoot. Your assigned model is Steve Rogers. He’s relatively new to the business, but he’s one of the best new models out there.”

 

Bucky feels himself looking like a deer in the headlights.

 

“That’s the reason why you two were paired up; you both seem to have the most potential of your group.” She continues, “Here are some sample photos, if you’d like to see who you’ll be working with.”

 

The first photo is of Steve leaning against a white wall. His hair is parted perfectly, and it sticks up in just the right way. The outfit simultaneously makes no sense and perfect sense: khakis, an alphabet sweater layered over a button-up, and an army green, puffy winter coat. The blue collar of his button-up brings out the sharp blue of his eyes, and his skin looks stupidly clear in the white light. The outdoorsy look juxtaposed with his perfect model hair makes him seem a bit comical, but somehow, it works.

 

Bucky swipes to the next picture. This time, Steve is standing on a snowy slope, looking down at his surroundings. The next picture is Steve standing in the middle of a snowy cobblestone street in red pants. Now Steve is back at the wall, looking seductively to the side.

 

The picture that really takes the cake, however, is the last one. It’s the same outfit as the first, only he’s shed his winter coat and put his hands in his pockets. He looks preppy and boyish and kind of ridiculous.

 

Even so, Steve Rogers is stupid cute.

 

And Bucky gets to photograph him.

 

It takes him a moment to realize that his mouth has been hanging open for the past two minutes. And that he has used the words “stupid” and “perfect” in his head an ungodly amount of times. This is definitely not business-like. At all.

 

He feels like he should say something, but all he can manage is “Whoa.”

 

Bucky’s definitely going to be fired.

 

When she thinks Bucky isn’t looking, Natasha smiles fondly at him.

 

“Oh, James, I forgot the most important part.”

 

 _I get to date the guy too?_ Thankfully Bucky keeps this last comment inside.

 

“To call me Bucky?” he says instead, and winces. Definitely not the right thing to say.

 

“Compensation. You will be paid $500 per hour. The shoot should last about 5 hours.”

 

Bucky has to hold his hand under his jaw to keep it from falling wide open again.

 

“Remember, if you do well, you could very well find yourself in a permanent position here at the Hub.” she says, packing up her things.

 

“The Hub?”

 

“Oh yes, I forgot. It’s one of Coulson’s things; he has a nickname for each of our branches. This building,” she gestures around, “is called the Hub. Since it’s in New York City, I guess? The Hub is the biggest _SHIELD_ building in the country.”

 

“It’s an honor to be working here - at the Hub, I mean -  ma’ - Ms. Romanoff.”

 

“Natasha, please.” Something in her voice has changed, softened almost.

 

“Natasha. Thank you for this opportunity.”

 

“Use it wisely. I hope to see you around here again soon.” Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Natasha heads out into the main atrium of the Hub.

 

****

 

“She said she’d hope to see you again? That’s amazing, dude. She must love your work.” Sam yells over the music.

 

“I don’t know. She was very cryptic! She could have meant ‘See you on Monday, James’ because the shoot is Monday.” Bucky sighs, taking a large gulp of his strawberry daiquiri.

 

Sam snorts and shoves Bucky’s arm. “She asked you to call her by her first name. You’re _in_.”

 

“You want me to get her number for you.” Bucky crosses his arms. This is typical of Sam.

 

“No! That wasn’t what I meant!”

 

“It definitely was. Besides, that’d be completely inappropriate. She’s my supervisor!”

 

“Yes, because you know exactly what is appropriate, Mr. Wears a Suit to a Starbucks Meeting.” Sam looks triumphant.

 

“Shut up.” Bucky rolls his eyes as a piece of hair falls out of his bun and onto his eyes. He pushes it behind his ear as he says, “Let’s just dance now, okay?”

 

“Sheesh, okay. I was trying to take it slow tonight but if you insist….”

 

They dance for a while - well Bucky does, Sam spends most of his time being recognized and taking selfies with people, and on one occasion, their shoes. At one point, when Sam is talking to his fifth fan in a row, Bucky’s eyes catch on someone as they scan the crowd.

 

Tall, with perfectly parted hair. Could it be?

 

Then he sees the cheekbones, so sharp that they must have been chiseled by Zeus himself and he knows.

 

It’s Steve.

 

What is Bucky thinking? How could he be so unprofessional? And honestly, the Zeus thing went a little far, even though it's true. His words tend to get a little fangirl-ish in regards to Steve.

 

Steve dances awkwardly with his group, always on the outside. He’s definitely got moves, though. He moves his hips along to the music, but it’d be a lot less awkward if he had someone to grind _on_. Bucky can just make out the silhouette of his large shoulders and strong arms across the floor.

 

Bucky doesn't dare say hello. Steve probably has no idea who he is and he's definitely way cooler than Bucky.

 

Before he can talk himself into it, Sam is pulling him away from the dancing.

 

“Dude, I’m beat and sick of talking to people. They think I care about how amazing my shoes are for running or how comfortable they are to work out in.” he whines.

 

“You totally care, though.” Bucky well enough that there’s nothing Sam loves more than a good review.

 

“I do!” he laughs and hits Bucky’s arm. “I just don’t feel like talking to anyone else.”

 

“It’s 11:00.” Bucky finds himself distracted and scanning the crowd.

 

“Maybe we can just go home then? Hang out?”

 

“Yeah, of course.” Bucky wasn’t having a great time anyway. He tears his eyes away from the mob of people dancing and heads for the door.

 

****

 

Bucky wakes with a jolt. He had been dreaming that he was falling endlessly through the air, like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. He only woke up once he hit the ground.

 

He tries to relax, but can’t shake the feeling that he has something to be worried about.

 

He looks over at the clock and _6:45_ blinks back at him.

 

Today is Monday. He doesn’t have a job anymore, so he doesn’t have to get up.

 

Oh wait. He does. And it starts in fifteen minutes.

 

Bucky throws his covers off and puts on whatever clothes are closest to him. He’s lucky that it’s formal enough for a new job.

 

He gargles with Listerine to save time and puts on flip flops despite it being the end of winter. Sadly, he’s forced to skip his daily coffee and jets out the door.

 

When he arrives at the _SHIELD_ building, it’s already 7:00.

 

“I’m here for a photo shoot? I’m Bucky Barnes.” Bucky is fidgeting nervously.

 

“Go on up.”

 

The gate opens and Bucky steps onto the escalator.

 

Normally, being the nerd that he is, he’d look around in pride and try to find some symbolic meaning behind his climb to the next floor. But today, he’s running late, so he’s running up the escalator.

 

Still, he tries to find some optimism in his tardiness. He tries, and fails. He’s a little low on creativity this morning.

 

He barges into the room out of breath.

 

“I’m sorry I’m late I just-” he stops when he sees everyone in the room has been listening attentively to Natasha speak. Of course, today she looks particularly frightening in her black dress and sharp heels.

 

“Stunts like _that_ ,” she cocks her head in Bucky’s direction, “will not help you get a job here.”

 

Everyone uncomfortably giggles and stares at him disapprovingly.

 

It seems Nat has assembled New York’s _finest_ photographers.

 

“As I was saying, you all have been chosen to photograph a specific model for this piece. They will be arriving soon.”

 

So the models get their beauty sleep? Not fair.

 

When they walk in, Bucky can’t help but scan the crowd for Steve. There are models of all shapes, colors, and ages here. It’s a little intimidating to see so many beautiful people walk into the room at once, but it’s also really cool. These people could be on the covers of every magazine in a few years.

 

Finally, he spots Steve at the back of the pack. He looks bored, but is still stunning as ever. Bucky realizes he has a problem when his eyes linger for a little too long.

 

And now Steve has spotted Bucky and is walking toward him and -- he needs to shake this crush, ASAP.

 

“Hey, I’m Steve. I don’t know if you know me, but I was on the cover of Men’s Health last week,” Spoken like a true arrogant, airhead model. Bucky’s heart falls. He’d seemed to have forgotten what type of personality accompanies those looks. At least it will be easier to get over him now.

 

“I thought they only let old guys on that,” Bucky tries to joke. Liking his jokes is the true test of compatibility.

 

“To be honest, I don't read it much.”

 

_Or at all, probably._

 

Before Bucky can attempt a response, Natasha silences the group.

 

“Remember folks, the point of this shoot is to show _fresh faces._ That includes the photographers too. This shoot can boost all of your careers. Let’s get started!”

 

Steve sits on a stool in front of Bucky.

 

“What do you want me to do?” Steve asks.

 

Honestly, Bucky hadn't planned for this shoot at all. He’d been too busy ogling over photos of Steve on the internet. He tries to think about the theme of the shoot and what would be best to portray with it.

 

“Just do what feels natural. Be honest.” He doesn't know where his words come from, but they feel right.

 

Steve nods and gets into character. His first outfit is a suit (Honestly, Bucky’s a little offended. Why is it that everyone else but him can wear a suit around here?). Steve poses as most models would; he stares longingly into the distance, rests his chin on his hand and looks seductively into the camera.

 

Bucky feels like he's shooting just any old model. This is supposed to showcase Steve’s talents as well as his, but it's just not cutting it right now.

 

“More honest!” Bucky says encouragingly.

 

Steve is a little hesitant at first, like he’s still trying to figure out how much Bucky wants from him. His smiles are unsure, and his eyes still wander a bit. Steve tries looking up at Bucky through his lashes seductively, but he really just comes off as timid. He raises his eyebrows in question: _Is this what you wanted? Am I doing okay?_.

 

“Try laughing?” Bucky suggests. “Think of something funny.”

 

Steve must think of the funniest thing in the world because once he starts laughing, it's hard for him to stop. As his nerves melt away, he attempts more experimental looks. At one point he even makes what can only be described as Derek Zoolander’s _Blue Steel_.

 

It’s fitting, Bucky thinks, Steve seems to be as aloof as Zoolander is.

 

When Steve changes into his second outfit, something changes for Bucky too. A suit had seemed formal and overdone. But now, in a soft orange v-neck sweater and glasses, Steve looks different, more unique.

 

“Let’s try some more fun shots this time.” Steve hasn't said anything to Bucky this whole time, but it seems right to talk to him.

 

Steve spends time smiling up at him through his lashes, and at one point, even takes off his glasses and bites the end of one side. He’s all smiles. Even still, the look he gives the camera makes Bucky swoon.

 

A few minutes later, when Steve is in his third and final outfit, inspiration strikes.

 

He’s in a sporty ensemble, much like the photos Bucky had been shown of him at Starbucks. They look too exciting next to the stark white background. Clothes like these need context.

 

“Can we take this one outside?” Bucky asks Natasha.

 

She raises an eyebrow at him but nods. “Thinking outside the box. I like it.”

 

“We’re going outside?” Steve sounds outraged.

 

“Have you never been there? It’s quite nice.” Bucky keeps up his banter despite it being one-sided.

 

Steve just scowls as if he did not prep for this, but still follows Bucky.

 

“Where were you thinking?” Steve asks on the escalator.

 

“Just the street. I think the clothes will look nice juxtaposed with the people in the back.” Bucky brainstorms.

 

“The clothes?” Steve just keeps getting more and more angry.

 

“And you! That wasn't what I meant - the outside will make your eyes pop too. And your hair. You’d look so good on the street too.” There he goes again with the word vomit.

 

Steve isn't phased. He makes the face of one used to being complimented on their looks.

 

“That wasn't what I meant either, but thank you,” he smirks and Bucky flushes red. “Most photographers don't see the clothes, they just see me. They don't get the bigger picture.”

 

“But I do?” Bucky’s gaze is transfixed on Steve’s mouth as it forms these words of praise. Up close, his greek god-like features are even more prominent: his shaped jawline, his plump lips, his blue eyes.

 

Bucky really just can’t keep it together today, can he?

 

“You do.” Steve smiles in a way that seems more authentic than any smile he’d given Bucky back upstairs. “Watch out!”

 

Bucky falls off the escalator. “Oh shit! I guess I wasn't paying attention.” _Because I was staring at you._

 

Steve holds out his hand to help Bucky up, and he takes it - and nearly drops it. His nerves around Steve are so bad that he felt a jolt when he grabbed onto Steve. _I better get a job out of this,_ he thinks.

 

They step out onto the street and a rush of cold air hits them. For Bucky, who had forgotten a jacket in his haste, the chill stings. It’s 10:00 now, so the rush is over, but since it’s New York, the streets are still packed to the brim.

 

Outside, Bucky is finally able to get into the zone. Without anyone watching or Natasha judging, he feels the freedom to experiment.

 

Bucky starts out with classic walking down the sidewalk and standing in the middle of the street photos and then begins to switch it up. They find different color walls and stores for Steve to stand in front of. Steve suggests new poses to try or a facial expression that would work. Bucky experiments with angles and lighting. Before, they were mostly silent, but now, there is a real collaboration going on. After a while, they’ve walked all the way to Times Square.

 

“Stand in the middle!” Bucky instructs.

 

“This is so cliche!” Steve giggles, throwing his head back and arms out.

 

Bucky hopes the photographers get to edit these because he really wants to blur everything but Steve.

 

Now they’re just having more fun than doing actual work. Steve insists that they take a selfie with the signs in the background.

 

They slip into the Times Square American Eagle, where Steve poses with and imitates the mannequins. Bucky takes a picture of him through a mirror, and he feels as if it’s one of the best shots he’s taken all day. Maybe ever.

 

Next, Bucky drags Steve into the Sephora, where the lighting is dark and moody. He wants to play around with the lighting of the displays on Steve’s face. The shoot starts to become a little more serious again, but quickly loses any semblance of professionalism when Steve picks up the mascara samples and starts putting them on.

 

“I don’t think my stylists put enough on today,” he laughs.

 

These make for some intimate photos. They never would have gotten anything like this from a small room with a white background. Being outside of the formal environment seems to have caused a change in Steve, too. With every photo he’s seeming less and less like the stereotypical model.

 

They continue around the store in pure bliss. Sometimes Steve is recognized and, always asking Bucky first, he stops to take photos with his fans.

 

When Steve catches Bucky giving him a funny look, he shrugs. “Gotta give back. These people are making me famous.”

 

 _Famous._ Bucky rolls his eyes.

 

“Steve!” a worried voice calls.

 

“Must be another admirer.” Steve muses.

 

Bucky’s first impression is of arrogance, but he notices some subtle sarcastic undertones missing from earlier conversations.

 

There is a woman rushing towards them at full force. She must be part of the fashion world because she is impeccably dressed. Her blonde hair is cropped in layers at her shoulders, and she wears a crop top and high waisted black jeans, even though it’s 50 degrees outside. The most threatening part of the whole outfit, though, is her silver, chunky, platform boots.

 

“Steven Grant Rogers just what do you think you’re doing?”

 

Steve’s face goes pale. He definitely knows this woman.

 

“Sharon, what’s going on?” he asks.

 

The woman, Sharon, rolls her eyes at him. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

 

“No?” Steve looks over at Bucky, questioning.

 

“It’s 12:00.” Sharon says. “The shoot ended an hour ago. I got a phone call asking if I knew where you’d gone. Obviously, I said no, it wasn’t my job to keep tabs on you at all times, but the _SHIELD_ people were welcome to look for you.”

 

“Then what are you doing here?”

 

“Buying my makeup, of course. I could ask the same of you.” Although she is being serious, a smile plays at her lips.

 

“Bucky suggested we shoot the last outfit on the street, and we just kind of ended up here.” Steve looks guilty.

 

“Bucky?” Sharon says incredulously. Clearly she ignores people who don’t look as wonderful as she and Steve do.

 

“My photographer for the project.” He nods toward Bucky.

 

Bucky, who had been silent this entire time, suddenly feels his face flush. Not only are two beautiful people staring at him, but this whole mess is mostly his fault.

 

“I thought your photographer was James,” she says, whipping out her phone and tapping aggressively.

 

“Bucky’s my nickname,” he explains, shooting out his hand.

 

“I see.” She looks him up and down, as if assessing his worth. “I’m Sharon Carter, Steven’s agent.”

 

“I thought he was Steve.” This time, Steve gets his joke and laughs. That’s better than before, but Steve still doesn’t add on.

 

Sharon just blinks back at him.

 

“At any rate, you two should be getting back to _SHIELD_. They’re worried that they’ve just lost their most promising model.” She completely ignores Bucky now.

 

Bucky hates models and their snotty agents.

 

“And their best photographer.” Steve reminds her.

 

Okay, Bucky is indifferent towards oblivious models, but he _hates_ their snotty agents.

 

“I’m sure.” She presses her lips together and walks in the direction of the registers.

 

After this strange encounter, the walk back is a little awkward. All of the ease that had become the norm for their shoot was suddenly missing.

 

“I didn’t realize how far we’d gone,” Bucky says, trying to bring back the conversation.

 

“Or how long it was.” Steve responds, but doesn’t look at Bucky.

 

What changed?

 

They walk back to the photo shoot room in what feels like the walk of shame. Natasha eyes them nervously.

 

“I’m glad to see that you two have gotten along so well, but next time, don’t run away for two hours? Please?” Natasha’s cold stare was enough to make them both nod their heads fiercely.

 

“Steve, why don’t you get changed, and then you and your people can be on your way?” Her tone hints that she wants some time alone with Bucky.

 

“Yes ma’am.” Steve hurries away.

 

Natasha turns toward Bucky and sighs.

 

“What is with you two and the ‘ma’am’s?” she rolls her eyes.

 

 _You two._ Something about that strikes a chord with Bucky.

 

“Raised polite, I guess.” Bucky tries to joke, but he’s feeling squirmish.

 

“Hmm.” One of the corners of her mouth raises in a sort of smile. “I hope those photos were worth it because they caused quite a stir.”

 

“I’m sorry, ma’am - Natasha. The photos definitely were worth it, though. They’re unlike anything I’ve ever done.” Bucky doesn’t know why, but he feels the urge to be honest with her.

 

“Good. Just one more thing before you go.”

 

“Anything.”

 

“Next time try not to look so obvious.”

 

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

 

“I saw the way you looked at him. It’s hard sometimes, working surrounded by beautiful people. We can’t get caught up in it.”

 

Bucky is slightly outraged by her comment, but he manages a “Yes ma’am.” Before he turns to run away. As fast as he possibly can.

 

Okay, he doesn’t run, because that would be unprofessional, but he does move with a swift urgency toward the exit. Bucky can feel sweat starting to pool up at his hairline. He’s only mildly panicking.

 

However, much to his bewilderment, the sound of high heels clicking follows him. “James! Wait!”

 

Once she catches up to him, she continues, “The photos are due edited by seven o’clock tonight. They’re to be fully edited. Submit ten of your best from each outfit.”

 

“I don’t know if that will be possible. It’s almost one o’clock, and I don’t know if I can choose just ten from the last one.” Bucky figures he might as well be truthful.

 

“I know, that’s why I wanted to let you know. Your photos won’t be due until ten. And you can use up to twenty from the final shoot, and only five from the others. If you want.”

 

“Thank you so much, but isn’t that unfair?”

 

Natasha’s face softens. “James, even if your photos from today were awful, they’d still be better than everyone else’s here.”

 

Bucky’s heart almost stops beating.

 

“I’m flattered, but I don’t see why that’s a reason for me to have extra time.”

 

“I’d be obligated to hire you here based on your portfolio alone. The best photos from today are going to be on the cover and the main focus of the story. I’d anticipated that those would come from you and Steve. I want these photos to be your best, if they’re going to be on the cover.” Natasha is speaking to him more like a friend than a supervisor now.

 

His photos. On the cover of _SHIELD_?

 

“Am I being punk’d? Where’s Ashton Kutcher?”

 

“We couldn’t get in touch with him, sorry,” she laughs, something Bucky wasn’t sure she was capable of doing. “But no, you’re not being punk’d. This is real life. I’ll email you tomorrow officially, after reviewing your photos. But you can consider yourself hired and your photos on the cover of next month’s _SHIELD_.”

 

Bucky rushes forward and hugs her. He can’t help it. When he pulls back and sees her bewildered yet amused expression, he’s sure Ashton Kutcher is hiding behind a trashcan, about to pop out at him.

 

“I’ll be contacting you soon. Now go, and edit the best photos of your life!” Natasha grins.

 

“Thanks again, Natasha. It means a lot,” Bucky says earnestly.

 

She smiles and makes shooing motions. “Of course! Now go!”

 

He nods and hurries away, taking the escalator two steps at a time.

 

Bucky feels like he has just walked out of a dream. There’s no way he had spent his day running around Manhattan with Steve in tow. And there’s definitely no way Natasha just told him he’d have the job without looking at his photos.

 

Despite his excitement, he feels a little bit like he’s not worthy of her praise.

 

Bucky shakes it off.  He’ll prove he’s worthy of that cover. And that Steve is too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)) Chapter 2 will be posted next week!  
> A few notes:  
> *The [YO sculpture](http://www.brooklynpaper.com/stories/38/47/24-oy-yo-sculpture-2015-11-20-bk.html) for those who haven't seen it  
> *Steve's sporty photoshoot: [here](http://spacenerdevans.tumblr.com/post/158088685473)  
> *Steve's sweater and glasses during the SHIELD shoot: [here](https://harrisonzford.tumblr.com/post/156645043428/steverogersnotebook-i-love-acting-its-my)  
> *Times Square photos [are in this style](https://files.slack.com/files-pri/T3L4Y9XKL-F5RV7RC4D/yay)
> 
> Find the amazingly talented artist on [tumblr](http://lunarelles.tumblr.com)  
> Find me on [tumblr](http://stevvenrogers.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky sort of goes on a Tinder date, and parties with Sam on two separate occasions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thanks so much to all of my wonderful betas for your support and editing skills!
> 
> Also, [Lunarelles](http://lunarelles.tumblr.com/) was awesome enough to make TWO lovely artworks for this fic, so I have showcased another one in this chapter :))
> 
> This chapter is by far the longest one, but I couldn't bear to break it up into parts, so here it is!  
> (see warnings at the end)

[ ](http://imgur.com/VrGPdYd)

 

* * *

 

For someone that Bucky had never seen before in his life, he sure sees Steve everywhere now.

 

He sees his face on the cover of _Men’s Health_ (he may have picked that one up on purpose, but no one needs to know), catches sight of his blonde hair in Central Park, and sees him on an episode of TMZ.

 

They found some “insider footage” of Steve playing with a dog. Other than the fact that he looked like a dweeb while he spoke to it in a baby voice, they could find nothing to make fun of about him.

 

Bucky could think of plenty of things to make fun of Steve for. But that isn't the point.

 

He especially sees Steve around work. Since their photos were chosen for the cover of _SHIELD_ , Steve is at the Hub frequently for interviews and business-type things.

 

And Bucky is at the Hub frequently because he somehow landed his dream job there.

 

Bucky is the head of New York lifestyle photos for the magazine. He’s the only one in the department, but the title still feels special.

 

Natasha really liked his outdoor photos and how he captured the city.

 

“Your photos show that, somewhere underneath all the dirt and grime, the streets of this city are beautiful,” she’d said in her email to him.

 

Now, he spends his days galavanting around the city taking _Humans of New York_ -type photos for _SHIELD_ magazine.

 

He uses the word “galavanting” loosely. It doesn't quite feel like galavanting when he takes pictures in Times Square, alone.

 

He’s doing a piece on the people that work in the character costumes in Times Square. Today, Bucky has a meeting with someone that dresses up as Elmo.

 

He wanted to meet with the Naked Cowboy, but Natasha shot that idea down pretty quickly.

 

After his mostly unsuccessful meeting (the guy wanted to be paid by the word for his interview and photos), he returns to his desk to find a thick stack of papers resting on it.

 

It takes Bucky a moment to realize what it is: the rough version of next month’s issue.

 

And there it is, taking up the whole cover, his photo of Steve standing in Times Square, arms spread. Bucky smiles when he sees it. He’d figured that they’d use one of the more generic photos of Steve for the cover, but he’s glad to see that they have an appreciation for his better work.

 

The title reads: STEVE ROGERS AND OTHER **FRESH FACES IN FASHION** GIVE US A LOOK INTO THEIR WILD LIVES

 

There goes every chance of Bucky reading the article. He has no desire to hear about Steve’s time spent at clubs grinding the air. He’s seen it in person, and honestly, it's pathetic. And he doesn’t care about any of the other models’ wild lives either.

 

Natasha walks into Bucky’s office. Saying that never gets old; Bucky has an _office_. It’s mainly because he’s the only one in his department, and Natasha likes him, but still. It’s an office.

 

“How did the meeting with Elmo go?” She asks, her tone much more relaxed than in their earlier talks.

 

In the two weeks that Bucky has been here, Natasha has become more of a friend than a supervisor.

 

Bucky sighs and leans back in his chair. “Awful. All he wanted was money. I paid him ten bucks and took two mediocre pictures.”

 

Natasha takes a seat on his desk, and Bucky is reminded of Abigail. He hopes Natasha will be as close to him as she was.

 

“Well not everyone is easy to work with.” She nods towards the magazine. “Some shoots are just magic.”

 

Natasha is always acting like she knows something Bucky doesn’t when she talks about Steve, but he’s started to attribute it to her personality. She’s all mysterious and scary and intimidating on the outside, but kind and sweet on the inside. Kind of like a Kinder Surprise Egg.

 

Bucky’s really hungry.

 

“At any rate, I’m going to need adequate photos for the Times Square people by tomorrow morning.” Natasha smirks and hops off Bucky’s desk.

 

Bucky chokes on the water he’s drinking...And he’s reminded of why Kinder Surprise Eggs are banned in the US. Sometimes the surprise isn’t so good.

 

****

 

Bucky returns home that night, after hours spent photographing the Times Square people, exhausted. Thankfully, he got enough photos  to satisfy Natasha, but they’re not his best. Maybe this just isn’t his week.

 

He flops on the couch and considers what Natasha said earlier.

 

_Some shoots are just magic._

 

Maybe this wasn’t magic.

 

Bucky sighs and pulls out his phone. Surely swiping through Tinder will ease his tension and cure his sudden boredom.

 

After a few minutes, he’s swiped left on almost everyone he’s seen so far. Now, he’s gotten into a rhythm. _Look, swipe. Look, swipe._

 

Bucky’s just finished the _look_ portion on the next face that pops up when he nearly falls off the couch in excitement.

 

 _We really need to stop meeting like this_. He thinks.

 

It’s Steve. He looks amazing. A quick look through his profile proves that he seems to live the “wild” life described by the article. His photos are mostly selfies, and his bio is pathetic: _Steve. 21. Model._

 

Still, it takes every ounce of strength Bucky has not to swipe right on him. Who swipes left on magic?

 

Bucky does.

 

The next face he sees is cute. Not as cute as Steve, by any means, but still a standout. He’s muscular like Steve, but even moreso. He seems like a total gymbro by his photos, but Bucky can get past that when he sees his bio. _Wanna get RumLOW with me tonight? Swipe right._

 

Bucky’s a sucker for good puns.

 

So, Bucky swipes right on this Brock Rumlow guy. What’s the harm in being adventurous? What’s the harm in wanting to go for a quick date with someone?

 

Almost instantly, he gets a message back from Rumlow.

 

 **BROCK:** U up?

 

Bucky rolls his eyes.

 

 **BUCKY:** It’s 6pm. Of course I’m up.

 **BROCK:** hahha just checkin ;)

 **BROCK:** what i meant was, u up for a date tonight?

 

Bucky considers. It is Wednesday, but he could use a midweek pick-me-up.

 

 **BUCKY:** meet me at Peggy’s Diner in 10?

 **BROCK:** yeeah. love that place.

 **BROCK:** where is it again?

 **BUCKY:** on 5th av and E 34th

 **BROCK:** riiiight. that’s by the gym ;p see you then

 

Bucky puts on his coat and heads out the door.

 

****

 

He’s been here for twenty minutes now. Peggy, the owner and a friend of his, keeps coming over to check on him.

 

“How long ago was your date supposed to be here, Barnes?” Peggy frowns.

 

“Twenty minutes ago.” Bucky sighs and leans back in the booth.

 

“Can I see a picture of him, so I can let you know if he comes in?” Peggy manages a smile this time.

 

“Yeah, here.” Bucky lifts up his phone to her. She scrunches up her eyes in concentration.

 

“It’s probably better that you didn’t see him. He looks like bad news.” Peggy sighs, “Can I get you something, though? It’d be a shame to see you looking so spiffy for no reason.”

 

Bucky smiles at her word choice. Peggy’s super old fashioned, and sometimes it shows in her speech (and her bright red lipstick). Mostly, it shows in her restaurant. It was only built five years ago, but she had it made to look all vintage. The waitresses and waiters wear vintage server clothes and there’s a jukebox that plays old-timey music.

 

Bucky doesn’t need to look at the menu to know what he wants here.

 

“The omelet of the day, please.” He hands her his unopened menu.

 

Peggy grins. “Of course. It’s on the house.” When Bucky opens his mouth to argue, she quiets him, “Shush! You deserve it.”

 

As Peggy walks away, Bucky’s eyes linger toward the door. Part of him wants to believe that Rumlow will walk through those doors and say he’d gotten caught up at the gym. But the other, more rational part of him knows that he’s been stood up.

 

Instead, a tall, blond man steps through the door of the diner. And turns his head right in Bucky’s direction.

 

“Bucky?” he waves.  “It’s me, Steve.”

 

As if Bucky wouldn’t recognize the guy from space.

 

Steve walks toward Bucky’s table and Bucky feels himself start to sweat.

 

“You come here often?” Bucky asks, not in a pick-up kind of way, but honestly wondering.

 

Steve cracks a smile. “Often? They had a bed installed for me in the back years ago.”

 

“Really? Me too!” Bucky feigns surprise. There’s something different about this exchange with Steve, far away from the public eye.

 

“Steve! Is that you?” Peggy’s English accent rings out from far off in the diner.

 

“It is!” He turns around to embrace her.

 

“You and Barnes know each other?” She raises an eyebrow, almost as if to say _How could a loser like Bucky know a hottie like Steve?_

 

“We do, as hard as it is to believe.” Bucky folds his arms. “We worked together on a piece for _SHIELD_ magazine.”

 

“It’ll be in stores Friday,” Steve informs her proudly, always one for self-promo.

 

“I’ll be sure to check it out.” Peggy says earnestly. “Oh, I’d better go check on your omelet!”

 

“Thanks Peg.” Bucky says. Then looking up at Steve, he says something he’d never thought he’d say. “Would you like to join me?”

 

“That’d be amazing, actually.” Steve smiles sincerely. Maybe he needs to not be alone tonight, too.

 

Peggy, as if having planned for it to go this way, comes back to the table.

 

“Steve, darling, may I take your order?” She tries to hide her guilty smile, but fails.

 

“What’s that face for?” Bucky interjects.

 

Peggy looks at the floor. “Just wanted to see my friends get along.” After a moment, she continues, “Steve, your order?”

 

“Well, I’ve heard your omelets are the cat’s meow.” He grins like he’s just pulled the prank of the century.

 

“Picking up on my old fashioned slang, now are we?” Peggy scoffs. “One omelet of the day it is.”

 

She promptly hurries toward the kitchen, heels clicking all the way.

 

“So what brings you here alone on a Wednesday night?” Steve asks, linking his hands together on the table.

 

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Bucky smirks, avoiding the question. He really doesn’t feel like telling a model he was stood up by some gymbro he met on Tinder an hour ago.

 

“I asked you first.” Steve’s a child.

 

“I asked you second.” So is Bucky.

 

“I asked you first.” Steve is stubborn.

 

“Fine.” Bucky’s not. “If you must know, I was meant to be here on a date. But I got stood up.”

 

He flips his hair over his shoulder uncomfortably.

 

Steve’s face goes from joking to serious in an instant. “I’m really sorry, Buck.” He jolts. “-y. Buck _y_.”

 

“Do you want to see a picture?” Bucky pulls out his phone. “He’s kind of a loser.”

 

Steve nods, mouth busy biting his straw.

 

When Bucky turns his phone around, Steve jumps, and the straw pulls the glass down onto his lap.

 

“Oh shit sorry!” Bucky runs to Steve’s side of the booth, throwing napkins at Steve’s crotch.

 

And then it hits him that he's throwing napkins at Steve’s _crotch,_ and his face turns bright red. He returns back to his seat in shame.

 

Luckily, Steve supplies conversation. “It's okay! I was just surprised because-”

 

“Because he’s annoying and I’m pathetic.” Bucky interrupts, giving up.

 

“No,” Steve’s eyes grow wide, “He was...is...he’s really hot.”

 

Bucky jumps in his seat. Steve’s tinder profile didn’t specify any sexuality or preferences, but Bucky’s got a pretty good feeling that Steve is into guys. His gay-dar has never failed him before.

 

“And he’s also a total gymbro, if you’re into that.” Steve grins.

 

Steve adds hastily, “He’s definitely not worth your time, though. You deserve better.”

 

Warmth spreads through Bucky’s chest, and he can feel himself blushing as Peggy comes back with their food.

 

Seeing Bucky’s red cheeks, Peggy smiles as if her plans have been accomplished.

 

“Two omelets of the day for two wonderful boys.” She sets the plates down in front of them. “Today we’re serving a Cinnamon Apple Omelet with granny smith apples, sour cream, brown sugar, and cinnamon. Eat up!”

 

Bucky takes a big bite of omelet and grins. He’s always loved warm apples, and he never knew they’d work perfectly in an omelet.  Peggy truly is a culinary genius.

 

“Peggy’s omelettes are so weird,” Steve remarks before shoving a large forkful of omelet into his mouth.

 

“If you think they’re weird, Steve, you should just go.” Peggy crosses her arms, feigning annoyance.

 

“Myher mrlly mruuf!” Steve smiles and tilts his head back.

 

“They’re really good,” Bucky translates automatically.

 

Steve makes a big show of swallowing and placing his hand over his heart in surprise. “I didn’t know you spoke happy food mumbling!”

 

“But of course!” Bucky plays along, “I’m also fluent in angry and indifferent food mumbling.”

 

Peggy turns to Bucky and raises her eyebrows. “I didn’t know that either. And I’ve known you for a long time.”

 

“How do you know Peggy?” Steve puts his fork down for a moment and leans back in his seat.

 

“We met in college. I’ve only been out for a year now, but Peggy’s older,” Peggy promptly punches his arm, but Bucky continues, “She graduated two years ago.”

 

Steve studies Bucky for a moment before turning to Peggy.

 

“What’d you study, Pegs?” he asks.

 

“I was actually a criminal justice major, if you can believe it.” She purses her red lips. “Bucky went to school for something dumb too.”

 

“Oh, come on,” Bucky rolls his eyes.

 

Steve gives Bucky a harsh look. “And what was that?” he says, cocking an eyebrow up in challenge.

 

“If you must know, I was an accounting major _for my first two years only_.” Bucky lightly kicks Peggy’s ankle.

 

“Two out of the three years I knew you,” Peggy supplies.

 

“If it makes you feel any better, I went to school for literature for like two years, but I’m just a model now,” Steve shrugs.

 

“You’re _just_ a model? Ugh, you’re so humble I can’t stand it.” Peggy turns and walks away, but her smile says she admires Steve more than she lets on.

 

“How do you know Peggy?” Bucky asks, changing the conversation. He’d been beginning to forget that Steve was _just a model_ and wanted to keep it that way.

 

“We worked together at an ice cream shop in high school. She was an exchange student from London, so she was only there for a few months, but we kept in touch after. Even then she had dreams to move here and start a restaurant. I guess the criminal justice stuff came later.” Steve takes a contemplative bite of omelette.

 

“How is it that, out of everywhere in the city, we ended up here tonight? And that we both know Peggy.” He adds the latter statement as he realizes how odd the former must sound.

 

Steve’s eyes soften, and he tilts his head to the side. As he opens his mouth to speak, his phone buzzes loudly.

 

It feels like Bucky is being woken from a dream.

 

“I’m so sorry, it’s Sharon, my agent?”  Bucky nods to say, _yes I remember her and yes, please take it._

 

Steve smiles apologetically and stands up to have some privacy.

 

Bucky hears the one side of the conversation.

 

“Hey Sharon? Is this important? I’m kinda out. With someone.”

 

Bucky’s heart flips a little.

 

“Oh. Can that wait? No? Oh.” his voice falls. “I’ll be right over.”

 

Steve hurries back to the table, his mood severely crushed.

 

“I’ve got to go double check my interview with _SHIELD_. Don’t forget, it comes out Friday, if you want to see your pictures and maybe read it?” Steve says in what Bucky now recognizes as his work voice. “I’m so so sorry. I’ve had a great time talking to you tonight.” Steve puts on his coat. “I hope we can meet up again? Maybe after the piece comes out?” He puts a 20 on the table. “I’ll see you!”

 

And with that, he’s rushing out the door, calling to Peggy on his way. And Bucky’s left breathless and alone with two omelets and a twenty dollar bill at his booth.

 

****

 

“So you’re really not going to read the article with _your_ pictures and _your_ model in it?” Sam asks Bucky that Friday night.

 

“I’m really not.” Bucky confirms. “And he’s not _my_ model.”

 

Sam just rolls his eyes. “Bucky, you’ve read every installment of _SHIELD_ since you were fifteen. Why stop now?”

 

“It loses some of its magic when you work behind the scenes.” Bucky’s being a smart alec.

 

“What-ever,” Sam says in a teenage accent. “This place is lame.”

 

Sam’s right; the party is starting to die down, and it’s only 11:00.

 

“What do you say we go to the after party?” Sam wiggles his eyebrows and slides his sunglasses on, even though it’s nighttime.

 

“Go home, Sam. You’re drunk.” This is an incorrect assumption, as Sam either knows when to stop drinking or is really good at faking sober when he’s out. Within the comfort of his own home, though, is a different story.

 

“There isn’t an after party,” Bucky continues more rationally, then sighs when he realizes what Sam is suggesting. He usually refers to their favorite late-night club as the after party to any and all events. “Rooftop?”

 

“Rooftop.” Sam jumps out of his chair, smiling goofily.  “Maybe rooftop can be our always.”

 

Bucky crosses his arms. “I knew I shouldn't have taken you to see that movie.”

 

Sam ignores the comment. “Will you take pretty pictures of me?” Sam says this like it will persuade Bucky to go to the rooftop with him.

 

“Fine,” Bucky sighs, knowing complying is the only way to mollify Sam’s moods.

 

It takes far too long to reach _La Discotheque de Stark_ \- which is not French by any means, but is simply named that for aesthetic purposes.

 

The only reason they can get in is because Sam is rich, and Stark Industries made some fancy tech for Sam’s shoes once.

 

They reach the club by 11:45 and have to wait fifteen minutes for it to open.

 

“This place is legit,” Sam likes to say of the club’s strict time schedule.

 

“This place is overpriced and overrated,” Bucky likes to joke back. His disdain is only a joke, of course. Bucky’s a sucker for killer views.

 

The other people in line are clearly rich as well; the line is filled with girls in short dresses and designer bags, people in suits, and people wearing next to nothing.

 

Bucky hates all of them.

 

Sam always tries to tell him that he’s “way too judgemental.” But Bucky brushes it off. “I’m picky.” he’d insist.

 

Slowly the line begins to move, and Bucky and Sam walk up the stairs to the roof. By the time they reach the top, Bucky is having trouble breathing. You’d think the rich wouldn’t want to walk up ten flights to some club, but apparently that adds to the “hipster factor.”

 

Even though the walk up here sucks, he has to admit that the view is worth it.

 

Almost all of Manhattan is visible from here, and at this hour, the Brooklyn Bridge is dotting the skyline, all lit up.

 

The rooftop itself is even more beautiful. It’s covered in plants, making it green and lively. There are lights strung above his head that stretch across the whole roof, zigzagging with other strands along the way. Even though it isn’t summer, Bucky forgets the cold as his mind is transported to a time of garden parties and picnics.

 

Bucky takes out his phone and takes a few shots of the skyline and the greenery, and of course, Sam posing by the edge. His favorite picture features Sam’s silhouette against the bright Manhattan skyline. Sam’s smirk is just barely visible through the darkness.

 

After a few minutes of photographing, Sam says, “Hey, I think I’m gonna go dance for a bit. You in?”

 

Bucky, being too tired from the previous club, opts out. Instead, he sits on a chair with a perfect view of the city and edits his photos. He ends up posting the photo of Sam and one that has the rooftop lights in focus and a view of the city lights in the distance to his Instagram.

 

Bucky has a private Instagram that’s just for him, but he also runs a photography account that draws a decent following.

 

He captions the photos _Bright lights_ _and the big city (and @samfalcon )._

 

Something is still rather dissatisfying about the pictures. He loves taking photos of Sam, he really does. But there’s something lacking in them: emotion. To a random onlooker, it’s just a picture of some dude in front of a sunset. The photos that Bucky is struck by the most are the kinds that have layers; the whole is more than the sum of the parts.

 

These photos are just flat.

 

The only time Bucky’s ever taken his dream photos was back at his first day at _SHIELD._ That was probably due to the excitement of the job, right? Definitely not the person he was capturing. That guy was an airhead model-type. He was as shallow as these photos of Sam. At least that’s what he thought before recently, so that’s what he tries to convince himself of as he sits on the edge of the rooftop, lonely.

 

“You ready to head out now, man?” Sam has his worried eyes on.

 

Bucky blinks and rubs his eyes, trying to get used to the lack of light from his phone. “How long were you dancing?”

 

“Do you mean how long were you sitting here in self pity?” Sam shoots back.

 

“Self pity?” Bucky’s a little too quick at responding to be believable. “I’ve been sitting here editing photos of you!” When Sam quirks an eyebrow in disbelief, Bucky adds, “You can check Instagram! It’s all there.”

 

Sam makes a big show of taking out his phone and turning it on. “@bucky.barnes has tagged you in a photo.” He looks up, still not 100% content with Bucky’s behavior. “You get off easy this time.”

 

Bucky sighs and stands up, eyes still lingering on the scene before him and heart still lingering in his fantasies.

 

Sam looks at Bucky like he knows there’s more to the story than he’s letting on, but respects Bucky’s boundaries enough not to pry.

 

Most of their walk toward home is silent, despite the occasional anecdote from the day’s work, on Bucky’s end, and from the dance floor, on Sam’s end.

 

Sam pauses in front of a CVS storefront. “I’ve got to pick up some Advil. Do you mind?”

 

“Nah,” Bucky lies. Ever since the rooftop, he’s been in a trance. All he really wants to do is go home and eat a mountain of chocolate, but he’s a good friend who doesn’t feel like walking home alone right now.

 

Bucky browses around as Sam finds what he needs towards the back of the store. He looks at the register displays, one of his favorite activities. He loves reading the outrageous claims of celebrity magazines and waiting to see which ones are actually true.

 

_REMNANTS OF WWII HERO’S SUNKEN PLANE FOUND IN NORTH ATLANTIC OCEAN_

 

_THE NEW FALCON SNEAKER AND OTHER SHOE INNOVATIONS_

 

_STEVE ROGERS AND OTHER FRESH FACES IN FASHION GIVE US A LOOK INTO THEIR WILD LIVES_

 

There it is. His photo on the cover of a real _SHIELD_ magazine. Bucky wasn’t expecting how overwhelming it’d be to see his work on such a scale, so he just stands there, agape, for lord knows how long.

 

“Are you going to read it?” Sam says from over his shoulder. Sam really needs to learn how to not interrupt Bucky’s introspective times.

 

“No way.” Bucky’s not so sure anymore. Maybe it’s the time he spent with Steve at Peggy’s, or maybe it’s the allure of seeing the magazine in print, but Bucky is suddenly a lot more interested in Steve Rogers’s not-so wild life off camera.

 

Sam picks up a copy and places it on the counter next to his Advil.

 

Bucky moves to take the magazine off the counter. “You don’t have to buy that, Sam. I know you’re trying to be nice and pretend you’ll put it out at work or something, but you don’t need to spend-”

 

“It’s not for me,” Sam swipes Bucky’s hand away, “It’s for you.”

 

Bucky’s face softens. “Oh.”

 

“Yeah. Oh.” Sam slides money across the counter and shoves _SHIELD_ into Bucky’s chest. “I’ll be damned if my best friend doesn’t get to see his own pictures in his favorite magazine.”

 

A “Thanks” is all Bucky can manage.

 

Sam places an arm on Bucky’s shoulder and steers him out of the CVS. “Also, I’m having a party tomorrow night. And you’re coming.”

 

Bucky can’t see a reason to argue with that.

 

****

The magazine has been staring at him all morning. Steve’s name is the first thing that catches his eye when he wakes up, he sees Steve’s widespread arms over the breakfast table, and he sits on it a few times on accident.

 

Bucky doesn’t know what he’s avoiding. He already knows how the pictures have turned out; he edited them himself.

 

But when he opens up to the article, he realizes what it is. There, on the entire left side page, is the photo of Steve at Sephora accompanied by a quote. _It’s not all fun and games, being a model._

 

What if it is? Bucky doesn’t want to find out that this super cute nice guy who for some reason keeps going out of his way to talk to him is a douche. He doesn’t want to have his image of Steve Rogers tainted by nights with strippers and drugs. Bucky wants to remember the Steve that giggled like a child with him as they ran around Times Square. He wants to remember the Steve that spilled water all over himself at a restaurant because of a dumb picture.

 

But he also wants to know. To know for sure whether or not Steve is even worth his time. Or rather, if he’s worth Steve’s.

 

So, he forces himself to begin reading.

 

The article begins with some dumb stuff about partying and other models, but then it gets into the main event: Steve Rogers.

 

_“SHIELD: It must be pretty amazing for your career to have taken off like this._

_ROGERS: I mean, I guess so. I’m very fortunate to be where I am right now. But I do wish that I could be normal sometimes. I know everyone says that, but I mean it.  I know everyone says that too, but I...well, I really mean it._

At this point, Rogers is blushing bright red and he runs a hand feverishly through his hair. When he settles himself, something in his demeanor has changed.

_ROGERS: What I’m trying to say is, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes I just want to run around the city like a normal guy, experiencing everyday things. I recently had a good time fooling around and exploring Times Square like a tourist with a good friend. Being there with him really made me reconsider what I’m doing. I wish every day could be like that, just acting like idiots in shops and taking nice pictures, just for me._

_SHIELD: That sounds life-changing._

_ROGERS: It was._

_SHIELD: You say being a model ‘isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’ What_ is _it cracked up to be, exactly?_

_ROGERS: That’s a toughie. To me, modeling is an art form. I don’t want to be remembered for being beautiful or good at posing or rich. I want to be remembered as someone that captured moments through what I do. This isn’t what modeling is to a lot of other people, though. To most, it’s a popularity contest. Being admired isn’t always nice. I don’t have to go into that; you know I get followed by fans and paparazzi and stuff. You’ve heard that lament a thousand times._

_SHIELD: Good point. Is there anything you wish you could be doing right now instead?_

_ROGERS: Like I said earlier, I’m very fortunate to be doing what I love. But sometimes I do wish I could finish my education and have a normal college experience. I was actually an english and comparative literature major at Columbia before this career took off. I wasn’t sure where it would take me, but it’d be cool to have found out._

_SHIELD: Columbia, impressive. Now, to end on a lighter note: do you have any fun or wild stories about your new life?_

_ROGERS: Nah, nothing wild. But I did have a fun night before I came here? I was at a diner with a friend. I spilled water all over myself. Is that interesting? Will that make the celebrities are just like us page? Anyway. It was real nice, just being normal for a bit. Sorry to disappoint._

_SHIELD: You could never disappoint us, Steve. Thank you for your time.”_

 

Bucky can’t remove the magazine from his death grip.

 

Steve seemed so arrogant and aloof most of the time.

 

Well, okay, he really didn’t. Bucky had just wanted to be able to write him off as some dumb model, so he’d made him up to be a lot worse than he was. As if the night at Peggy’s hadn’t made it obvious enough, Steve is a lot more than a pretty face.

 

He’s a pretty face that mentioned a “friend” twice. That mentioned Bucky.

 

Bucky tries to spend the day editing pictures and planning photo shoots, but he’s too busy daydreaming about Steve. He only remembers he has to go to Sam’s party when he gets a call from Sam asking him for ice.

 

****

 

When the elevator doors open, Bucky is hit by a wave of humidity and sound.

 

“Hey man!” Sam takes the ice out of Bucky’s arms and pulls him into a bear hug.

 

Bucky takes a look around and sighs. He hates crowded house parties. More like a penthouse party, in this case, but still.

 

“I was going to say sorry for being late, but clearly you’re having fun without me.” Bucky jokes.

 

Sam doesn’t flinch. “Clearly.”

 

He takes Bucky’s jacket and leads him over to the drink table, where the ice is placed in a fresh bucket.

 

“How much fun can you really be having with the likes of these people?” Bucky grimaces, looking around at the guests. He can’t stand pretentious people, even if he is a bit of one.

 

“Why are you so judgey?” Sam sighs. “I’ve got to go take care of some stuff, think you can have fun without me for a bit?” He says this as if Bucky is a five year old.

 

“Of course.” he scoffs, turning to get a drink.

 

Bucky has always loved Sam’s house. It has all the elegance of a penthouse with its own elevator, yet is still homey and cozy and _Sam_. The living area is gorgeous; it’s filled with tall windows overlooking the city and long couches and minimalist styles. But there are throw rugs and photographs that remind Bucky that he’s in his best friend’s house, not that of some random rich dude.

 

He heads over to where the music is and finds people drunkenly stumbling around, despite it being 11:30. Bucky joins in with some people he knows, but these parties are never too fun without Sam.  

 

Bucky always feels like he doesn’t fit in with Sam’s world of rich friends. Most of the people work for him or have worked with him, so they’re all higher-ups in the fashion and athletic industries. Bucky is one hundred percent out of his depth here.

 

Even still, most of them know how important Bucky is to Sam - or at the very least, recognize him from the photos in the living room - and make an effort to include him.

 

The night is mostly a tipsy haze of lights and dancing and small talk until Sam finally makes his way to Bucky again.

 

“Guess who just got here,” Sam asks, slurring his words slightly. He apparently had been drinking in his time away from Bucky.

 

“The Queen of England.” Bucky deadpans. When Sam snorts from laughter, he knows Sam’s really drunk. He only snorts in front of his closest friends. Tomorrow he’ll be mortified to hear he made strange noises in front of potential co-workers and clients.

 

Sam pats Bucky on the shoulder. “You’re so funny, my dude. But no. Not her. She’s pretty rad, though. Do you think she’d consider coming over?”

 

Bucky can’t reason with drunk Sam. He’s tried time and again, and always fails.

 

“Who’s here?” Bucky repeats.

 

“Your,” Sam pauses for dramatic effect, then continues in a hushed whisper, “lover.”

 

Bucky almost chokes on his beer. “You must be delusional, Sam, because I don’t have a lover.”

 

“Oh yes you do!” Sam giggles and hits Bucky’s shoulder. “Steve Rogers!” Bucky’s face flushes. “That hot model. The one you met at Peggy’s the other night. Speaking of Peggy, she should be here by now. I have to find her. Her accent is pretty.”

 

“It is. Why don’t you go find her?” Bucky would normally lead drunk Sam back in the right direction, but he’d rather not have him prying around Steve.

 

Sam’s eyes widen like he’d just heard the best idea ever. “Good idea! Byee!”

 

Bucky’s eyes scan the crowd for Steve’s face, but he can’t find him.  Maybe Sam really is delusional, because Steve is definitely not here. Unless he snuck off to a more private part of the house with someone, in which case Bucky does not wish to find him.

 

As Bucky is walking over to the drinks for another beer, he knocks into someone. Of course, what little smidge of beer is left in the bottle spills on the person.

 

“I’m so sorry! I’ll get napkins!” Bucky says before he can get a look at who it is.

 

A laugh sounds from behind him. “Again? Why do we keep meeting like this?”

 

“Steve?” Bucky turns his head fast enough to get whiplash.

 

“Do you have eyes?” One of the girls Steve was talking to cuts in. “I can’t believe you just spilled on Steve Rogers. He was telling me a great story about-” She trails off. “What were you telling me about again?”

 

“How I’m not interested in you.” Steve has a pained expression, as if he really didn’t want to dish out that burn, but it was definitely necessary.

 

“Oh. Well. I’m sure there are more famous people here.” The girl whips out her phone and starts typing as she stalks away.

 

Steve blushes. “Sorry you had to see that.”

 

“Got a lot of admirers, huh?” Bucky awkwardly says. “Probably comes along with the wild lifestyle of you models.”

 

Bucky winces. He promised himself he wouldn’t mention the article to Steve if he saw him. Which he had imagined extensively in his head. However, he hadn’t thought of a scenario that started with him spilling beer on Steve.

 

“You saw.” Steve makes a cross between a blush and a wince. “Probably think I’m all superficial now.”

 

His eyes soften and his mouth turns up in a slight smile. “Quite the opposite, really.”

 

Steve quirks an eyebrow.

 

“Really.” Bucky assures him.

 

They stare at each other for a few awkward moments before Bucky remembers that Steve has a beer stain on his shirt now.

 

“Let’s get that cleaned up?” Bucky asks.

 

“Yeah.” Steve says, distracted. By what, Bucky doesn’t know.

 

They head to the bathroom silently, in a way that suggests both of them know exactly where they’re going.

 

Bucky picks up on this and says, “How do you know Sam?”

 

“Modeled for his company a few times. Sam’s a nice guy; we’ve hung out a few times since then.” explains Steve.

 

Bucky is taken aback. Why didn’t Sam say that he knew Steve? Why didn’t he tell Bucky he’d be here tonight?

 

Steve sighs and pulls his shirt over his head before handing his shirt over to Bucky.  “You spilt it, you…” he pauses, searching for a rhyme. “...gotta clean it up.” He makes an apologetic face.

 

 _There’s no reason to apologize_ , Bucky says, thankfully, inside his head. He can feel his eyes widening as he stares at him; Steve’s the most fit person Bucky has ever seen. Of course that’s an exaggeration, but Bucky doesn’t care. He watches Steve’s muscles move as he pulls himself onto the counter.

 

Steve crosses his arms. “How do you know Sam?”

 

To keep himself from staring at Steve’s muscles, Bucky busies himself with his work.  

 

“Sam and I have been friends since high school. At first it was more like frenemies, you know, arguing over dumb stuff and sort of hating each other. But by our senior year, we were best friends. It’s been that way ever since.” Bucky allows himself to be nostalgic for a moment before looking up at Steve.

 

Steve’s smiling fondly at him, and Bucky ducks his head down to hide his blush.

 

And in that moment, Bucky realizes that he likes Steve. He _like_ likes Steve. It’s been pretty obvious, he realizes, just not to him. No wonder he’s cared so much about seeing Steve around, or why the shoot with Steve was pure magic, or why his heart raced when he realized he was mentioned in the article.

 

“Why do all of our friends know each other?” Steve wonders aloud. Bucky’s brought back to reality, and feeling incredibly awkward.

 

“It’s a small world?” Bucky supplies. He motions for Steve to move his feet out of the way so that he can open the cabinet. Bucky fishes around for a moment before retrieving a hair dryer.

 

Bucky plugs in the dryer and holds it in front of the wet spot on Steve’s shirt.

 

“You don’t have to-” Steve starts.

 

“Yeah, I do. If I’m gonna do somethin’ I’m gonna do it right.” He’s forced to yell over the sound, so his accent slips through a little.

 

“Okay.” Steve hops off the counter and watches Bucky work over his shoulder. It feels nice to have Steve’s warmth so close to him. “Why do you think Sam has a hair dryer?”

 

Bucky shivers despite the warmth as Steve’s breath hits his ear.

 

“This is a communal drawer,” Bucky explains, “It’s literally just here for parties.”

 

Steve’s eyes widen. “That’s awesome.”

 

Bucky unplugs the dryer and is about to respond when someone else does.

 

“Yeah, that’s super awesome,” A girl with a California surfer vibe cuts in.

 

“Oh sorry! Do you need to get in here? We were just leaving,” Steve, always polite, responds.

 

The girl walks closer and approaches Steve. “Yeah, I need to get in here.”

 

Steve looks down at his chest in horror as he realizes he’s still shirtless. He rips his shirt out of Bucky’s hands and slips it on.

 

“Carissa’s looking for you. She misses you lots,” the girl bites her lip and looks up at Steve through her lashes.

 

“I should probably go then.” He rushes out of the bathroom and mouths _I’m sorry_ to Bucky before darting out in the direction of Carissa.

 

Bucky stands there, gaping for a moment at what just unfolded.

 

“Who’s Carissa?” Bucky asks the girl, not looking at her.

 

The girl giggles, a sharp, high pitched sound. “Silly, she and Steve have a _thing_.”

 

“Oh.” Bucky is suddenly feeling very claustrophobic in the small bathroom.

 

Suddenly the girl is pouting. “I have to pee. Can you leave?”

 

“Yeah, yeah I’m sorry.” Bucky stumbles out of the bathroom and crashes into the nearest couch.

 

By now, it’s nearing 1:00, and this area of the party has started to mellow out. Bucky sits in Sam’s library room, surrounded by people holding champagne flutes with pinkies up. An acoustic playlist floats through the room from the surround-sound speakers as Bucky lies in self pity.

 

The last song fades out and a cheer goes up from the room. Apparently these people live for sad songs. The melancholy voice of a guitar fills the room as the next song begins.

 

“I love this song!” One girl yells. Others nod in agreement.

 

The guitar’s riffs evoke so much feeling that Bucky can feel his heart strings being pulled along with them.

_Do ya?_

_Do you think about me?_

_And, do ya?_

_Do you feel the same way, babe?_

 

Bucky recognizes this song from the radio; Shawn Mendes’s _Ruin_.

 

A face pops in Bucky’s head: Steve.

 

As hard as he’s been trying not to, Bucky’s been pining. So somehow, the lyrics are really relatable right now.

 

After reading the article, it seemed like Steve actually valued Bucky. But it was naive to think that Bucky was the only one Steve cared about when there was a world of models and fancy tycoons awaiting him. Why would anyone choose Bucky over that?

 

_And I'm not tryna ruin your happiness,_

_But darling don't you know that_

_I'm the only one for ya?_

_And I'm not tryna ruin your happiness, baby_

_But darling don't you know that_

_I'm the only one, yeah?_

 

It still hurts. A lot. The realization of how stupid he’s been over these past few weeks has hit Bucky like a ton of bricks. Shawn Mendes isn’t helping. As the song fades out, Bucky wishes he could melt away into this music. Away from the dancing, away from the singing, away from Steve.

 

_Do I ever, Do I ever cross your mind?_

_Not trying to ruin your happiness at all_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mild mention of alcohol and being drunk
> 
> Thank you for reading! Chapter 3 will be comin at ya next week :))))  
> A few notes:  
> *The rooftop photos in the style of [Brandon Woelfel](https://www.instagram.com/brandonwoelfel/?hl=en): for example [the one with the lights](https://www.instagram.com/p/BUtA7GXDIFz/?taken-by=brandonwoelfel&hl=en)  
> *Sam's penthouse: like [this](https://robbreportedit.files.wordpress.com/2016/04/01-auberge-beach-residences-spa-fort-lauderdale-penthouse.jpg) but still homey  
> *The [Shawn Mendes song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-nCLLnQA5c) mentioned (it makes me cry every time)
> 
> Find the uber talented artist on [tumblr](http://lunarelles.tumblr.com/)  
> Find me on [tumblr](http://stevvenrogers.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party takes an unexpected turn, Bucky takes on a second job, and our boys have some bonding time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been leaving kudos and comments! Your support means THE WORLD!!!
> 
> As usual, thank you to everyone who has helped out with this fic. I love y'all lots.

After moping for a few more songs, Bucky decides to head over to find Sam. Of course, he finds him at the last place he wants to be right now: the dance floor.

 

Sam is showing off his moves to his favorite song of all time:  _ Trouble Man _ by Marvin Gaye. 

 

Bucky watches him from the edge of the floor, ignoring Sam’s beckoning motions. He looks like the king of smooth jazz as he dances. After the son ends, Sam comes over.

 

“What’s going on, bud? Didn’t want to dance to the best song ever together?” Sam’s tone is joking, but his eyes say he’s seriously worried about Bucky.

 

Bucky tries to put on a happy face. “Yeah, man. I’m good. Just didn’t want to steal your thunder.”

 

Sam’s raised eyebrow says  _ That’s a crock of shit _ but, like the supportive friend he is, he lets him be. “Hey, look who’s out there strutting his stuff.”

 

Of course, it’s Steve, dancing with some A-listers and showing off his dorky dance moves. Bucky’s heart practically reaches out for him. 

 

He has to remind himself that they were never in a relationship, nor were they heading into boyfriend territory. Bucky’s feelings are unrequited, so there is nothing for him to be upset about. 

 

“Buck?” Sam waves a hand in front of Bucky’s eyes. “Is anybody there?”

 

“Sorry just thinkin’.” Bucky lies.

 

“Mmhm.” Sam heads toward the DJ booth without saying a word. He leans up to the DJ, a personal friend of his, and asks for something. Sam covers his mouth with his hand, so Bucky can’t tell what he’s asking, but it’s definitely something fishy. 

 

The next song that comes on opens with a brassy, big band sound. Sam turns around, triumphant.

 

“Find your sweethearts, everyone!” Sam announces to the group. Most people giggle and blush, but oblige. 

 

“What’s this all about, Sam?” Bucky’s getting nervous now. 

 

Sam takes Bucky’s hands and pulls him into the center of the floor. “Just wanted to dance with you.”

 

Bucky rolls his eyes and blows a piece of hair out of his eyes. “You’re lying through your teeth.”

 

“I am!” Sam laughs, moving away with a jolt. Suddenly someone else is being thrust into Bucky’s arms. “I had a plan!”

 

Low and behold, Steve is now holding Bucky as if they’re slow dancing. Which they are. But they’re not a couple, Bucky reminds himself. They’re acquaintances. 

 

“Hey.” Steve doesn’t look too upset or surprised by this arrangement. 

 

“Um, we don’t have to do this. This is just Sam being dumb. I think I’m actually going to get some fresh air? Or a fresh drink?” Bucky speaks much too fast, his trademark nervous habit. 

 

As he begins to make his escape, a hand pulls him back.

 

“I love this song. I’m kind of a 40s nerd.” Steve says. 

 

Bucky listens closer to the music. A woman croons,

 

_ Kiss me once, then kiss me twice _

_ Then kiss me once again _

_ It's been a long, long time. _

 

It’s a really nice song, but Bucky can’t imagine Steve listening to big band music in his free time. 

 

Steve pulls him closer and resets them into a waltzing position. “I kinda wanna keep dancing. If that’s okay.”

 

Bucky would do anything to make Steve happy, and he really likes being this close to him, even if he was just mad at Steve five minutes ago. 

 

In a great lapse of judgement, Bucky nods that it is okay and proceeds to pull Steve a little closer. So close that their broad chests are touching. Which would be fine if they were dating. But they’re not. 

 

At first it’s a little awkward; there are some toes trampled in the process, there are blushes at the close proximity of their lips, and they can’t quite make eye contact, but soon enough they find a rhythm and get comfortable with each other.

 

He can feel everyone’s eyes on them and realizes that this must have been planned by more than just Sam. Everyone probably knows that they worked at  _ SHIELD  _ together and wanted to set them up. Bucky is mortified.

 

“So...the article.” Steve begins.

 

Bucky isn’t sure what to say that won’t give him away. “The article.” he repeats.

 

“Did you read it?” Steve’s eyes are searching.

 

“Yeah.” Bucky looks down.

 

Steve brightens up a bit, but is held back by his clear apprehension. “What did you think?”

 

“I didn’t really like how you spun me, actually.” Bucky jokes. 

 

Steve’s eyes wide in horror and he stops swaying. The problem with Bucky’s humor is that no one can ever tell when he’s joking.

 

“I’m kidding!” Bucky says hastily. “My jokes are shit, I’m sorry.”

 

Steve looks at Bucky incredulously. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the seriously least serious person ever?” 

 

“Actually, yes.” 

 

After a few moments of silence, they resume swaying.

 

“I really liked it,” Bucky says finally.

 

“You did?” Steve doesn’t meet Bucky’s eyes.

 

“I was surprised, you know.” Bucky decides to be honest. “I wasn’t expecting you to be like that. So philosophical.”

 

Steve snorts. “What, did you think I was as dumb as  _ Zoolander _ ?”

 

_ Yes. _

 

“No!” Bucky blurts.

 

“Mmhm.” Steve says, like he’s used to it.

 

“But I was also surprised that I was mentioned.” Bucky tries to recover.

 

“Oh, that wasn’t about you.” Steve informs him.

 

Bucky feels his entire body become covered in sweat.

 

“No one gets my jokes either.” Steve squeezes Bucky’s hand.

 

Bucky audibly sighs in relief. 

 

“I really enjoyed your company, and your photography is so amazing you deserved a mention.” Steve opens up.

 

“Why are you so damn nice?” Bucky looks up at Steve through his lashes.

 

Steve laughs as if this is the first time he’s heard this. “Fatal flaw. Good parenting. You choose.”

 

“Thank you, though. Not many people compliment me about my photos.” Bucky doesn’t mean to sound self-pitying, but it’s true. No one ever thinks of the person behind the camera.

 

“Of course. You deserve it. Even your iPhone photos are stunning.” Steve realizes how weird that sounds and corrects, “On your Instagram. I really liked the ones from last night.”

 

Bucky has to keep his jaw from dropping.

 

Steve blushes. “That sounds creepy. I only meant that I’ve been following your Instagram for a while now. It’s always really cool.”

 

“Thanks,” is all he can manage.

 

“Sure,” says Steve easily, “I follow a bunch of photographers, and you were suggested one day. I loved what I saw, been following ever since.”

 

“That means a lot. It’s mostly just dumb stuff and pictures of Sam. Nothing like my real work.” Bucky feels the need to play himself down a bit.

 

“Don’t put yourself down. You’ve got a lot of talent, Buck.” Steve smiles down at him and Bucky is remembered of his first impression of Steve being god-like. That definitely applies now.

 

“I don’t know about that,” he says, “I’ve been in kind of a rut lately. Haven’t been able to find the right subject, I guess.”

 

Steve’s look is questioning, but he pushes his thoughts away as he says, “Well the photos you took of me were amazing. I’m framing the one from the cover. I had a lot of fun that day.”

 

“Me too,” replies Bucky honestly.

 

“I have a lot of fun whenever I’m with you.” Steve’s smile softens and he looks at Bucky, full of fondness.

 

“Steve! I need to talk to you right now!” The unmistakable voice of Sam cuts across the room and Bucky snapped out of their secluded bubble. As it often does with Steve, he feels as though he’s coming out of a fog that surrounded just the two of them. The lights, though dim, are far too bright to him now.

 

Steve slips his hands away and turns toward Sam. Strangely enough, the first thing Bucky notices is how sweaty his palms are.

 

“The song’s not over!” Steve protests, which is odd, seeing as he already pulled away.

 

Sam scoffs. “You guys didn’t want to dance that much anyways. Come step into my office.” 

 

Steve turns to Bucky, and for the second time that night, mouths  _ i’m sorry _ and closes the door behind him.

 

Bucky stares around like someone in the middle of Times Square for the first time, standing stationary as the world moves past them. Only in this case, he’s not in awe, but he simply feels numb. 

 

Whatever Sam has to say better be important, he thinks as he moves through the crowd. He bumps into a few people along the way, but he isn’t really paying attention to where he’s going at this point. 

 

Bucky enters the elevator as two people stumble out, fixing their clothes. He sighs. Bucky hates parties. 

 

He thinks back to Steve.

 

Even with its flaws, this one hasn’t sucked that much.

 

****

 

That night, Bucky goes right to bed. When he wakes up in the morning, he sees he’s missed quite a few messages.

 

3:00 am

**STEVE:** Sam signed me to be the face of his company!!

**STEVE:** Where are you? I want to celebrate!

**STEVE:** Buck?

**STEVE:** I guess you went home. I hope to see you soon, though. Maybe we can hang out??

 

Bucky feels guilty for leaving early and blowing Steve off, but he just needed to leave before he did something rash. Something such as telling Steve that he had a great time with him too and that he was falling madly in love with him. 

 

It was better that he left.

 

Still, Bucky hesitates before replying

 

**BUCKY:** I’m so happy for you!! Maybe I’ll see you around more now? Since you’ll be over at Falcon a lot, I mean. Sorry for going AWOL back at Sam’s. Sometimes parties are a little much for me, and I had to get out of there.

 

To Bucky’s surprise (and delight), Steve replies almost immediately.

 

**STEVE:** It’s okay, I understand. I’m looking forward to seeing you more. I’m sorry if things got weird when we were dancing. I was just really surprised that you enjoyed what I said in the article. I didn’t mean for it to be weird that you were in there. Just thought you were important enough to include :) See you around?

 

**BUCKY:** Yeah, for sure.

 

Bucky spends his day with his heart doing flip flops. 

 

When he meets Sam for their weekly Sunday brunch later that day, he can’t help but be a little upset with him.

 

“How come you never told me you knew Steve?” Bucky interrogates Sam the moment he sits down.

 

“Whoa, whoa. Calm down, my head hurts.” Sam rubs his eyes. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to try and get me to set him up with you. My relationship with him is purely business, and I was interested in signing him.”

 

Bucky calms down a little bit. That’s reasonable. “That makes sense. But who said I’d want you to set us up?”

 

Sam rolls his eyes as he lays his napkin in his lap. “I see how you look at him. It’s not the same way everyone else looks at him, though. You don’t just see him on the outside, you’re the happiest when you see who he is inside.”

 

He’s not sure what to say to that, and frankly, it just leaves him with more questions.

 

“Is that why you had us dance together?” Bucky asks carefully.

 

“Duh!” Sam takes a big swig of his water. “Where is the waiter? I need something stronger than this.” He says absentmindedly.

 

“Focus, Sam! I want details!” Now that Bucky knows Sam’s been observing them, he wants to know everything.

 

“Hey, I said I wasn’t hooking you up with him! He’s the face of my company now. I can’t do that.” Sam tries to wave over a server, but his efforts are futile. 

 

Bucky sighs indignantly. 

 

Sam sighs back. “Listen, I can do one thing for you.” He leans forward in his chair dramatically. “You can do some work for me too. You’re great at photographing Steve, and you’ve worked together before. It’d be a way for you two to see each other again.”

 

“Sam, you’re brilliant!” Bucky nearly jumps out of his seat in excitement. “You wouldn’t even have to pay me; that’s how grateful I am.”

 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Sam deadpans. “I’m serious. You’re working for free. Maybe I’ll pay for your dinner once in awhile, but that’s it.”

 

“Deal.”

 

And so, the next day at work Bucky rushes to Natasha’s office, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. He doesn’t even bother to knock, but swings the door right open instead.

 

“James?” Natasha sounds mildly upset.

 

“What’s our policy on me having other jobs?” Bucky rushes to one of the chairs in front of her desk and sits down.

 

Natasha raises her eyebrows at him. “Are you getting bored here, James?” Her usual friendly manner is gone; this is all work-Natasha.

 

“No!” Bucky says much too quickly. “I just have another offer. With a friend! You know Falcon sportswear?”

 

Natasha nods, amused.

 

“Well, my best friend owns the company and he just hired Steve to be the face of the company.” This detail isn’t important, but Bucky still feels inclined to include it. “And he asked if I’d like to be his photographer. Every once in a while, of course. He’s not giving me a job there, it’s more like freelancing.” He sees Natasha pursing her lips, so he adds, “You said it yourself, Nat, those shoots were  _ magic _ . The chance to do it again, well, I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

 

Natasha is silent for a moment, considering. 

 

“I’m not sure about the specifics. I think you need to go talk to Coulson.” She picks up some papers and begins to examine them.

 

“Nat! Don’t ignore me! I’m scared!” Bucky protests, but Natasha acts as if he’s not there. Looks like he has to pay the manager of the Hub a visit. 

 

Bucky climbs on the escalator and rides it to the top floor, legs shaking in both fear of what’s ahead and fear of the height.

 

He’s greeted by a man at a desk, most likely Coulson’s assistant. “Hi, how can I help you?” The man says in a scottish accent. 

 

“Um, I need to talk to Mr. Coulson about…” How does he say he wants to do work for another company? “...some work stuff.”

 

The man raises an eyebrow. “I’ve got to be honest with you--I don’t normally work this desk. I’m Fitz. From the science and technology division? So I have no idea what Coulson’s schedule is. I’ll just knock and check and you can go on in.”

 

Bucky’s glad this guy seems to be as lost as he is. “Great, thanks.”

 

Fitz knocks on the door and says something to Coulson and then nods to Bucky. “You’re good.”

 

His legs shake as he walks in. Sitting behind a desk is Coulson, the man Bucky ran into on his first day. As Natasha had promised, he is wearing an impeccably tailored suit. 

 

“What can I help you with today?” Coulson says, standing up from his desk. “Mr…?”

 

Bucky shakes his outstretched hand. “Barnes. Bucky Barnes. I’m from lifestyle photography? My supervisor is Natasha Romanov.” 

 

“She talks about you all the time!” He interrupts. Coulson moves to sit atop his desk and continues speaking. “You did the cover a while back, right? Great work.”

 

“Thank you.” Bucky takes a moment to collect his thoughts. “Sir, I was wondering what the rules are about working for other companies.”

 

Coulson raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t interrupt.

 

“You see, my friend, Sam Wilson, is the CEO of Falcon Sportswear. He’s recently hired the model I shot for our cover, and he was hoping I’d continue to take the photos of him. He’d only use me for Steve and pay me per shoot. Would that be against the rules?” Bucky takes a deep breath as his heart begins to race faster.

 

Coulson hops off his desk and types a few things into his computer. 

 

“You’re in luck. Falcon isn’t a competing company, so you’re all set. So long as you continue to keep up with your work here - and at the same level of quality - you’re good to go.” He smiles up at Bucky.

 

“Thank you so much, sir. I won’t let you down!” Bucky turns to leave, since he’s still a little scared of the most important man in the building, but Coulson stops him.

 

“By the way, I really loved your article about the Times Square costume people. I learned some really awesome stuff.” He says earnestly.

 

Bucky is surprised by how nice this guy has been to him. “I appreciate that.”

 

“The best part was the before and after pictures. They were kind of funny, if I’m being honest.” Coulson leads him to the door. “I hope to see you in a higher position here at  _ SHIELD _ soon.” 

 

“Really? Am I even worthy of that?” He wonders aloud.

 

“You’ve definitely proved your worth.” Coulson smiles. “It was nice speaking with you.”

 

“You too, sir. Thank you again.” With that, the door is shut behind him.

 

He waits to tell Sam that he accepts until he visits him on his lunch break.

 

“I accept the offer! I’m allowed to work with you!” Bucky doesn’t bother knocking as he storms into Sam’s office.

 

Sam looks up at him, annoyed. He points to the phone pressed to his cheek and makes shooing motions with his hands.

 

“Sorry!” Bucky exclaims, far too loud for the situation. He sits down in the waiting area chairs and plays around on his phone.

 

A few minutes later, Bucky hears someone enter the hallway.

 

“Buck?” A voice says as it rounds the corner. 

 

“Steve,” Bucky breathes. 

 

“What are you doing ‘round these parts?” Steve giggles.

 

“I’m working here now!” Bucky is dying to tell Steve that they get to work together again; they get to make magic together again.

 

Steve’s face falls. “You left your job at  _ SHIELD _ ? Wasn’t that your dream?”

 

“No! I’m just taking up some odd jobs around here. This is my lunch hour.” Bucky hurriedly explains.

 

Steve relaxes. “What kind of odd jobs?”

 

“You, mostly.” Steve looks shocked, so he clarifies, “I’m going to be your photographer. For major shoots and stuff.”

 

“Oh!” Steve feigns excitement.

 

“You’re not excited?” Bucky’s voice is small. 

 

Steve makes an incredulous face. “Of course I am! I was just hoping we could be friends.”

 

“We still can be.” Bucky must be missing something here. 

 

“I know! Just, now we’re work friends,  I guess.” Steve says, not meeting Bucky’s eyes. After a few moments of silence, he clarifies, “No one ever gets my sense of humor, right?”

 

At that moment, Sam’s door opens. 

 

“You can come in now, Bucky.” His head swivels and he sees Steve. “Hey, Steve. Glad to see you guys ran into each other here. See you at that PR meeting later?”

 

“Yeah.” Steve looks immensely happy for a way out of the conversation. “See you ‘round, Bucky.”

 

“Bye,” Bucky hurries into Sam’s office and closes the door behind him. “Oh my god, that was awful.” He slides down the door like people do in movies.

 

“What happened? You were only out there for five minutes.” Sam puts his hands on his hips and looks at Bucky, who is slumped on the floor, hand tangled in his hair.

 

“I told him I was going to be his photographer, and he was totally not excited. At all.” Bucky knocks his head back against the door in frustration.

 

Sam lowers himself to the ground in front of Bucky. “So you’re taking the job?”

 

“That’s what I came here to tell you. Natasha said I’m good to go for working here.” Despite the fact that he’s delivering good news, Bucky’s lamenting.

 

“Well that’s exciting! I can give you the photo shoot calendar right now.” Sam stands up to go find the calendar.

 

“Ugh!” Bucky shouts, loud and exaggerated. “That is so not the point right now, Sam.”

 

“Right, right. You and Steve.” Sam is still rummaging through the papers on his desk.

 

Bucky tugs on his long hair, which is let loose today. “He doesn’t want me to take pictures of him! I thought what we had was special!” 

 

Sam can’t help it; he laughs. 

 

“I’m sure he has other reasons why he’s not excited besides not liking you.” Sam offers Bucky his hand and helps him stand up. “Actually, it’s probably because he likes you. Maybe he doesn’t want to screw things up.”

 

“Why is dating so hard?” Bucky flops in one of the red velvet chairs in front of Sam’s desk.

 

Sam hands him a calendar and sits in the chair opposite him. “Life is hard.” 

 

****

 

Bucky begins working for Sam weekly, doing promotional social media shoots and more important, headlining shoots. All with Steve.

 

The first shoot they do together is themed “The Falcon.” Apparently falcons are symbolic of victory, so the pictures are all supposed to be Steve winning various sporting events. To Bucky’s surprise, the symbolism is also why Sam named the company Falcon. Bucky still thinks that Sam just likes birds and got lucky with the secret meaning, but it’s a good shoot either way.

 

Working with Steve is better than he remembered. Bucky can’t imagine what it’d be like if he only got to work with him once. He’d be missing a lot.

 

He’d be missing the way Steve’s eyes crinkle when he laughs, or how he really lets himself go when it’s just the two of them in a room. Or how he shines in the middle of a crowded street, or how he blushes when he sees people watching them, or how he runs his hands through his hair while they wait to cross the street.

 

Bucky would never want to live life without seeing how Steve behaves in Central Park. He walks around like a little kid, mouth wide open, each time they go. He wastes no time, running up the rocks as soon as he spots them. Most of all, Bucky would never want to miss out on their conversations during breaks from shooting. Sometimes they talk about work, but mostly they talk about normal stuff; their dreams, their friends, what they’re going to do the next time they hang out.

 

Because they hang out now. All the time. And it’s wonderful. Sometimes Sam tags along, but for the most part, it’s just the two of them. Conversation never stops between them. Sure, it has its usual ebbs and flows, but there’s never any awkward silence. Everything between them is calm and comfortable.

 

Apparently it’s starting to show in their work. 

 

Sam drops a pile of pictures from their last trip to Central Park in Bucky’s lap. “I had these printed myself. They were too good not to.”

 

“What are they for?” Bucky asks in bewilderment, shuffling through the pictures. They were for Sam’s new line of sporty rain jackets. It was pouring that day, and Steve never put up the hood, so his hair is drenched. Bucky smiles as he remembers posting one of the photos to the Falcon Instagram with the caption,  _ The hood only works if you put it up, Steve. #RogersXFalcon _ .

 

“They’re for you.” Sam says it like it’s obvious. “Keep the ones you want and give the rest to Steve.”

 

“I’m still not sure what you mean.” Bucky tears his eyes away from the photos and looks at Sam, who is smirking.

 

Sam laughs and leans closer to him. “These are the best pictures I’ve ever seen. They’re so….natural. It’s clear Steve’s comfortable in front of you. I figured you’d want some of them, so I had them printed.” 

 

Bucky’s heart fills with warmth knowing Sam would do something like this for them. 

 

“Thanks, Sam. I’ll be sure to show these to Steve.” His phone buzzes loudly. “Speaking of, I’m late for our lunch.” 

 

“You’re going to lunch. With Steve.” Sam practically cackles at the thought. 

 

“We’re friends now,” Bucky defends, gathering his things.

 

“Mmmmhm. Friends. It’s gonna happen soon enough!” Sam calls to him. 

 

He closes the door as he replies, “Bye, Sam!”

 

He and Steve meet at Shake Shack every Wednesday for a quick lunch. Today, Steve has gotten them a table outside. It’s not quite spring yet, but it’s one of those incongruously warm days in March that’s perfect for going outside. 

 

“Got you your usual. Figured I’d beat the line.” Steve smiles. Bucky’s usual is the ‘Shroom Burger, whereas Steve’s more of a plain ShackBurger kind of guy.

 

Bucky resists the urge to reach down and kiss him on the cheek as he slides into his chair.

 

“Thanks, man.” Bucky smiles. It’s so nice to see Steve like this; he’s so carefree and smiley today.

 

Bucky reaches into his bag and pulls out the photos Sam gave him. “Sam had these printed for us. Said they were good pictures, or somethin’.” 

 

Steve’s eyes widen as he puts down his burger to look at the pictures. 

 

They’re silent for a few minutes, Steve studying the photos as Bucky chomps down on his burger. And watches Steve, of course. 

 

When Steve looks up, he catches Bucky staring, but makes no indication of it. 

 

“Can I keep some of these?” Steve seems unsure what else to say. 

 

“Speechless, are we?” Bucky ignores his question. He knows Steve well enough by now to know when he’s withholding information.

 

Steve’s face flushes as he replies, “These are just really nice. We make a good team.”

 

“Yeah,” Bucky says fondly. After a moment, he snaps out of it. “You can keep whichever ones you want.”

 

“Okay. I’ll take these,” he says, pulling out a few of his favorites. Coincidentally, Bucky’s favorite is still left for him.

 

“Sick.” 

 

They eat their burgers in silence now, Bucky sneaking looks at Steve when he can. The walk back is like that, too; Bucky’s eyes always linger a little too long. But he’s doing a good job suppressing his feelings. 

 

Ever since Sam’s party, Bucky’s been a little more awkward around Steve. He’s just felt a little more connected with him, is all. Also, he’s totally realized how in love with Steve he is, which makes it hard to not be weird. But he’s managing. And they’re friends now, which is good.

 

So good.

 

****

 

They continue like this for a few weeks, going to lunch and working together at Falcon. They come to know a lot about each other; Bucky learns that Steve got sick a lot as a kid and is asthmatic, and Steve learns the story of Bucky’s first camera. Somehow, they care about small details like that, past, present, and future. 

 

Sometimes Steve will come to  _ SHIELD _ to visit Bucky and Natasha. Without Bucky’s knowledge, Steve and Natasha had become strangely close in the small amount of time that he spent at the Hub back in January. Consequently, the three of them spend a good amount of time together now, too.

 

In the times they hang out alone, Bucky realizes that Steve actually does listen to big band music in his free time, and that he has a record player solely for that purpose. Steve is such a nerd. It’s adorable.

 

Bucky has everything he could ever want; a close circle of friends, an even closer best friend, and two amazing jobs doing what he loves. Everything that is, except love. He’s happy with what he has, sure, but in his worst moments he finds himself longing for someone else. Longing for Steve.

 

It doesn’t help that they are doing photo shoots together all the time now. He and Steve get together on the weekends and take photos together just for fun. They usually end up on one another’s Instagrams, of course, but they really do it to spend time together.

 

On one occasion, Steve takes pictures of Bucky, and he’s surprised by how good Steve is at photography. 

 

With spring in full force, they have a special shoot planned at the secret rooftop gardens of Rockefeller Center. They’re not really secret, of course, but they’re mostly a secret to the public. The gardens were once open to everyone, but have since been closed. Steve has connections in the area and got them in.

 

“Here it is!” Jacques Dernier, Steve’s friend, says in a thick French accent. “You can’t be here too long, since the gardens are technically only open to employees.”

 

Steve puts a hand on Jacques’s shoulder and says earnestly, “Thank you so much, my dude.” 

 

“It is no problem.  Take amazing photos!” He smiles before politely bowing out.

 

They walk around in silence for a few minutes, taking in the sights.

 

The garden is massive. Green is everywhere, with flowers dotting the area here and there. It’s amazing to be up as high as some of the surrounding buildings. This is a part of New York most people don’t get to see. On one side, the gardens border what could only be described as a massive cathedral, which only adds to the grandeur of the garden.

 

It’s absolutely surreal to have the place to themselves. Everything is quiet, except their footsteps and the street below. 

 

Finally, Steve remarks, “It’s so green.” 

 

Bucky nods in agreement. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many plants in the middle of the city,” he breathes.

 

“I love being outside.” Steve smiles.

 

“Wait a second.” Bucky remembers something from the first day at the Hub. “You weren’t very happy about going outside on our first day.”

 

Steve looks embarrassed. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to go outside that day. And I was cold! So cold.”

 

They wordlessly agree to begin taking photographs. Bucky begins with photos of the gardens themselves as Steve scopes out a good background. They take a few pictures of Steve standing near the edge, looking over the city as the plants surround him. After that’s done, they move to a bright green bush. Bucky loves how the green brings out the hints of green in Steve’s blue eyes.

 

When he says this, Steve replies, “Someone once told me that was a flaw of mine.”

 

Bucky pulls his camera away from his face and takes a step closer to Steve, to really look him in the eyes. “How could something so beautiful be a flaw at all?”

 

Steve smiles strangely.

 

They travel around the garden for what feels like hours, seldom speaking, but always taking photos. The silence is a nice change of pace; the shoot feels more intimate than any they’ve ever done.

 

Much too soon, Steve’s phone rings. 

 

“It’s Dernier,” Steve says, eyes looking sad. “We’ve got to go.”

 

The last thing Bucky wants is for this day to be over so soon. 

 

“I know somewhere else we can go. It’s a little far to walk, but-”

 

“We can take a cab.” Steve interrupts him. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> A few notes, as usual:  
> *The songs mentioned in this chapter (which were in The Winter Soldier movie): [Trouble Man](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6kduvcqx-BU) and [It's Been a Long, Long Time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0dh3Ape1GmU)  
> *[The Rockefeller Center Rooftop Gardens](https://untappedcities-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/Rockefeller-Center-Roof-Garden-620-Loft-Tishman-Speyer-5th-Avenue-NYC-006.jpg)  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky visit a beautiful park, but things don't go exactly as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The last chapter. Thank you to everyone who has been leaving comments and kudos along the way. It motivates me to keep writing and means so much to me. 
> 
> A final thank you to my betas and friends for their support. Also, a thank you to the artist, [Lunarelles](lunarelles.tumblr.com). Thank you for your ideas and beautiful work. This fic wouldn't be possible without you!
> 
> Without further adieu, the fourth and final chapter of Pictures of People Taking Pictures!

They barrel into the nearest taxi and Bucky breathlessly orders the driver, “217 East 51st Street, please.”

 

The driver practically floors it as if he feels how much of a rush they’re in. In reality he’s just driving as fast as any cabbie would, of course, but the whole cab seems charged with an electricity absent in the gardens. 

 

When they arrive, Bucky hands the driver exact change and pushes Steve out the door.

 

“I could have payed!” Steve objects.

 

“It was my idea to come here,” Bucky says, spinning Steve around slowly so he can see where they are. 

 

Bucky tries to see this place as if for the first time, through Steve’s eyes. It’s covered in green; more so than even the Rockefeller gardens. The plants are lush and exotic-looking.

 

Steve looks around in awe. “What is this place?”

 

“Greenacre Park.” Bucky puts his hand on the center of Steve’s back and leads him up the steps and deeper into the park….

 

And there it is again, that spark he first felt at Sam’s. Steve jumps a little at his touch, and Bucky wonders if he’s cold or if, maybe, Steve feels it, too.

 

It only lasts a moment, though, as much of the excitement from the cab has subsided in the midst of the beauty.

 

The park is full of people and life. A man sits, painting the scene, and a family takes a break from the city on the steps. To their left is a shaded seating area and in front of them are chairs and tables and the park’s main feature: a waterfall. Its sound dominates the small park, and most people are quiet as if in respect for it. Water features are common around the city, but with the surrounding plants, this waterfall feels real. It’s like they’ve stepped straight out of New York and into a jungle.

 

Tall, slender trees shade them as they near the waterfall. 

 

“Are we still in New York?” Steve breaks the silence and breaks into a half smile.

 

“Do you want to be?” Bucky pulls out a chair at the nearest table and motions for Steve to sit down. He obliges.

 

“Wherever this is, it’s the perfect place to be.” Steve leans across the table to Bucky, who has just taken the adjacent seat.

 

Bucky leans in and rests his chin on his hands. “Why’s that?”

 

“Because we’re together.” Steve says cheesily, inching his face closer to Bucky’s.

 

And just like that, they’re close enough to touch. The tension in the air is almost tangible and Bucky wonders for the second time if Steve feels it too.

 

“We should probably take some pictures.” Steve says, snapping out of it.

 

Bucky moves his face away. “Yeah. Pictures.”

 

They take a few pictures around the park and with the waterfall. They get some weird looks, but most people assume that they’re working for a magazine or something. Nothing weirds out New Yorkers. 

 

In a more shaded corner, Steve is posing so that the light is filtering across his face. After snapping a few pictures, Bucky pulls his camera away and takes a moment to admire Steve.

 

His hair is golden where the light is shining on it, and his teeth are a stark contrast to the shadow that’s come over them. He looks so comfortable in front of the camera, in front of Bucky.  Bucky feels his heart swell with fondness and  _ like _ . 

 

“See something you like?” Steve, either reading his mind or catching him staring, says. 

 

Something about today makes Bucky want to be honest with him. Maybe it’s the way Steve’s been looking at him all day, or the conversations they’ve had, or the tension or electricity, or the cab ride, or this lighting -- but Bucky can’t keep it in anymore.

 

“Yeah. I do.” It comes out soft yet husky, and Bucky nearly blushes at his tone.

 

Steve looks at him strangely, but in that way that only he can; that way that shows disapproval and fondness all at once.

 

“Well, I don’t look at the camera just for pictures. I look behind it too.” Steve tries to be witty, and fails. But it’s the thought that counts. Bucky thinks back to their first meeting, where Steve didn’t get any of Bucky’s jokes and made none of his own. They’ve come a long way.

 

“Why are we doing this to each other?” Bucky’s voice is strained.

 

“Doing what?” Steve pretends not to know.

 

Bucky scratches his beard absentmindedly. “You know exactly what we’re doing. Why can’t we just say it?”

 

With the two of them, things always become a game.

 

“Say what?” Steve puckers his lips in mock confusion.

 

And that’s it for Bucky. He’s rushing forward and then he’s running his hands through Steve’s golden hair and meeting Steve’s blue eyes (with a hint of green) and then Steve’s lifting his chin up and finding Bucky’s lips and then they’re kissing and at first it’s scary, but it’s so desperate and full of electricity and then Bucky’s parting his lips and when their noses crash together it’s not even awkward- they just laugh- and then they remember they’re in a public place and it’s over.

 

Steve’s eyes are wide and his lips are bright red and raw from kissing. They stare at each other for a moment, breathing heavy. Bucky’s hands are still in Steve’s hair, and Steve’s are resting low on Bucky’s waist.

 

“So…” Steve can hardly breathe, let alone speak. Bucky remembers his history of asthma and makes a mental note to keep an eye on his breathing. 

 

Besides, he can’t take his eyes off Steve’s plump lips. “Can...Can I take a picture of you right now? Your lips…”

 

Steve nods feverently and smoulders at the camera. When he looks through the viewfinder, Bucky’s heart nearly stops; he’s not looking at the camera, he’s looking right into Bucky’s eyes.

 

****

 

It’s only been a week, but to Bucky, it feels like forever since they kissed. The photos from that day were really well-received on Instagram, and Bucky is thinking of putting some in a gallery. Career-wise, that was a good day.

 

Bucky’s still not sure how it went, relationship-wise. 

 

The kiss had been amazing, or a least he’d thought so. He and Steve haven’t seen each other much during the week, and when they have, they could barely make eye contact.

 

One day, while Bucky is discussing future campaigns with Sam, shit gets real.

 

“Sam, we need to do sizing for the clothes for the next shoot.” A voice interrupts as the door swings open. It’s Steve, wearing a skin tight shirt that looks like a crop top on him.

 

Bucky’s face flushes not just because it’s Steve, but because he can see Steve’s defined abs sticking out below the hemline.

 

When he sees Bucky, Steve nearly jumps out of his skin. “I’m sorry, is this a bad time?”

 

“No!” Sam insists, as Bucky shoots him a look that says  _ Yes! _ . “Clearly we need to get you a better size in that, sorry Steve.”

 

“We can discuss times later?” Steve’s already halfway out the door.

 

“Sure.” Sam waves him off as the door shuts before turning to glare at Bucky, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “What the hell is going on here?”

 

Bucky suddenly feels very small. “What do you mean?”

 

Sam shakes his head. “You and Steve? You both nearly died when you saw each other.”

 

“We kissed.” Bucky blurts.

 

“I can’t decide whether to be happy or outraged about that.” Sam’s voice sounds outraged. 

 

“It’s not a big deal.” he tries to sound reasonable and not scared to death. 

 

Sam stands up and moves over to his filing cabinet. “It’s a big deal for work if you guys are dating.”

 

Bucky winces. He hadn’t thought of it that way. 

 

“Here.” Sam drops a stack of papers in front of him. HR forms.

 

“Sam. We aren’t dating,” Bucky says, shoving the papers far away from him.

 

Sam throws his arms up in annoyance. “Then can you please tell me what’s going on? Not as your boss but as your friend.”

 

He sighs, but relents. “We kissed.”

 

This earns an eyeroll from Sam. “I know.”

 

“I wasn’t done!” Bucky sounds overly defensive. “It was...good. At least I thought so. And it seemed like it was after because he looked really happy and goofy and the pictures I took are so special but we left. And didn’t talk about it. And didn’t contact each other. And haven’t had to do any work together this week.” 

 

Sam whistles. “That’s a mess.”

 

“It is.” Bucky agrees, even though he left out some important information. He left out how charged the air was after the kiss, how different the photos were. He felt like he was photographing his  _ boyfriend _ , not just his friend. How Steve had to leave to go speak with Sharon, and it felt like all the air left the room, and how Steve had held his hand and looked into his eyes and promised he’d call Bucky right after. How he never did.

 

“Well you’re about to have to do work together.” Sam picks up his phone and begins dialing.  

 

Bucky nearly jumps across the table to swat the phone out of Sam’s hands.

 

Sam holds up a finger and mouths  _ wait _ . “Hey. Sharon, are you still in the building? Great. Could you send him down, please? I have some work for he and Bu- _ James _ to finish up together. Thanks so much. Bye.”

 

“What did you do?”Bucky’s scared to ask.

 

“You and Steve are going to go choose clothes together for the next photo shoot, and he’ll try them on to be sized. If they fit, I want you guys doing a picnic style shoot in Central Park immediately.” Sam says this like it’s no problem. 

 

Bucky literally facepalms. “Why the  _ fuck _ would you do that, Sam? Why do you think that’s fucking okay? He didn’t call me back, Sam. He’s not interested!”

 

“Not interested in what?” Steve. Always on time.

 

“Choosing clothes.” Sam finishes. “I was thinking you and Bucky could choose some clothing and you’d be sized? This way we can get some photographer-model communication going for the next shoot. Communication is  _ really _ important you know.”

 

Sam sucks.

 

“Of course I’d be interested in that!” Golden boy Rogers looks disapprovingly at Bucky. 

 

“I was kidding.” Bucky tries to be charming, but it falls flat.

 

Steve doesn’t look at Bucky as he says, “When’s the shoot?”

 

“As soon as the clothes are picked out.” Sam shoos them out of the room.

 

The walk to the storage room is silent. There’s tension in the air again, just not the good kind. Bucky knows they should talk about what happened if they’re going to be working together, but he’s not really in the mood. He doesn’t know if he ever will be. 

 

They look through the clothes in silence, until Steve holds up an outfit.

 

“Do you think these are good?” Steve nods to the white jeans and black tee shirt he’s holding.

 

“Uh, yeah.” Bucky says without looking. He doesn’t really want to imagine how good Steve will look in those jeans, but he does anyway.

 

Why have things completely reverted back to the way they were before?

 

“I’ll try them on,” Steve says, disappearing behind the dressing room curtain.

 

Bucky looks for a proper blanket for Steve to sit on for the shoot while he’s getting dressed. He settles on a faded pink patterned blanket.

 

And then he waits. He wishes he had someone to talk to because he’s so fucking mad at Sam that he could punch a wall. Instead, Bucky picks at a few loose strands of the blanket and thinks about Greenacre Park.

 

“What do you think?” Steve opens the curtain suddenly.

 

“It’s missing something.” A new voice cuts in. As usual, it’s Sharon, showing up at the wrong time and throwing in her two cents. 

 

Steve furrows his brow. It’s objectively adorable, but Bucky sharply turns his glance away.

 

Sharon rushes over to another rack and grabs him a black turtleneck. “Try this instead.” 

 

Her eyes turn back to her phone just as Bucky’s turn back to Steve. The little fucker didn’t go back into the changing room to put on the new shirt, so Bucky’s standing there, mouth agape, staring at those muscles again.

 

“Much better.” Sharon says, looking up from her phone. “James, do you mind if I speak with you for a moment?”

 

“Sure.” Bucky doesn’t move.

 

“Alone.” She clarifies, leading the way out of the room.

 

“What’s up?” Bucky puts his hands in his pockets in an attempt to seem nonchalant.

 

Sharon types a few things into her phone and turns it around. “Do you remember this?”

 

Bucky audibly gasps. It’s a photo of he and Steve kissing - no,  _ making out _ \- in the park. 

 

“Where the hell did you get this from?” Bucky’s heart races as he tears the phone out of her hands and stares at it a little more closely, like it’s going to change.

 

“A fan who was in the park recognized you and took it.” Sharon smacks her gum, and Bucky realizes he’s holding her phone and not his. He hands it back sheepishly.

 

“I don’t know what to say.” Bucky puts his hands back in his pockets to stop himself from reaching for the phone again.

 

Sharon smiles a little. “I just wanted to let you know that the public knows about what happened. I don’t know if that affects your decision at all…”

 

“My decision?” Bucky interrupts.

 

She blinks back at him for a few seconds. “Yes. On whether or not you’re going to continue to pursue Steve. I understand you have been largely avoiding him since this.”

 

“It’s been mutual.” Bucky feels the need to clarify this.

 

“Either way, I just wanted to let you know.” She moves to turn away, but stops in her tracks. “I was hoping this would happen, you know, since the first day. You guys are so cute, and you collaborate so well. I’m hoping good things come out of this.” 

 

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to silently blink back in awe. He watches her walk away and reluctantly returns to the storeroom.

 

“You ready?” He asks.

 

“Are you?” Steve knows Bucky well enough to know that something is wrong, but things aren’t good enough between them to have a full on heart to heart about what Sharon said.

 

“Yeah.” Bucky lies. “Let’s go.”

 

****

 

They arrive in the Central Park and silently head to one of their favorite spots. It’s elevated, so it provides a nice look at the city, but it also is a nice backdrop for photos. They’ve never taken pictures here before, though; this is usually where they’d come to talk. It was a place just for the two of them to see, until now. 

 

Bucky lays out the blanket and awkwardly asks Steve what he wants to do.

 

“I dunno…” Steve bites his lip. “I guess I’ll lie down.”

 

He lies on his stomach, weight being held by his arms and clasped hands. 

 

He looks introspectively down at the grass, and as he snaps photos, Bucky realizes that Steve is  _ sad _ . His eyes are dark and have a similar look to how people look at sad puppies. That’s when Bucky realizes again how ridiculous they’re being.

 

“I think I’ve got enough of this one, maybe try something else.” Bucky says awkwardly.

 

Steve sighs. “I don’t know what else to do.”

 

“Maybe sit up? Or we can take some standing ones?” he suggests.

 

“Not about that!” Steve stands up with a burst of energy. “I mean about you, you loser! I want to kiss you so badly right now, but I can’t.”

 

As much as Bucky wants to kiss him back, he’s feeling a little bit of anger. “And that’s my fault?”

 

“I’ve at least tried, Bucky. You just keep avoiding my eyes. I bet you those pictures you took suck a ton because you’re so sad. And I’m so sad. So then why ignore me like this?”

 

“Because you didn’t call me!” 

 

Steve’s eyes grow wide in surprise.

 

“I didn’t? Did I say I would?” Steve is totally shocked, and Bucky is reminded of the stereotype he thought Steve fit when they first met.

 

Bucky sits down on the blanket and takes his camera of from around his neck. It takes everything he has to set it on the ground rather than smash it. “Clearly it wasn’t that good if you forgot.”

 

“It was good! It was better than good! I figured we’d talk to each other at work and then it’d be fine.” Steve sits down next to him on the blanket at a polite distance. Of course, Steve has to be polite, even now.

 

“Why would you want me?” Bucky, airing a long-con grievance, says in a small voice.

 

“What do you mean?” Steve again looks incredibly confused.

 

Bucky sighs. “I mean that why would you, a model, want to go out with a photographer? You had so many people lining up for you that are so much better looking than me. You had Clarissa.”

 

Steve’s mouth drops open a bit. “What do you mean Clarissa? That Vogue model who was always trying to get me? Who insisted that we were dating? If anything, she’s just a friend.”

 

That explains a lot of things. “That’s beside the point. She’s a  _ vogue _ model. I’m a  _ photographer _ . Meant to be behind the camera for a reason.”

 

“Do you remember when I took the pictures of you?” Steve starts out soft.

 

He nods. How could he forget?

 

“Why do you think I took them? Because I liked the scenery-”

 

“Yes!” Bucky exclaims.

 

Steve shakes his head. “It’s because you deserve to be preserved in a photograph forever. Look, I’m sorry about not calling you. It was awful. But that still doesn’t excuse us not talking to each other in the first place.

 

The reason why I didn’t want you to be my photographer initially was because I was scared. I wanted to be friends with you, but I was too scared. I knew I would end up falling for you if we spent that much time together, and I figured we’d only be work friends. As it turns out, I got my wish, but I also ended up falling too. But then you liked me too!” Steve would have kept going had Bucky not cut in.

 

“I was thinking the same thing. Are you sure you want to give up your wild life for me?” Bucky still can’t let go of that one.

 

Steve coughs as he chokes on air. “I thought we covered that my life isn’t that exciting. You’re the only exciting part about it.”

 

“You’re right. You look pretty stupid humping the air in clubs anyway.” He plays with the loose strands of the blanket, not meeting Steve’s eyes.

 

“What!” Bucky looks up to see Steve’s face is bright red. “You’ve seen me dancing?”

 

Bucky smirks and continues. “It’s not as dumb as your Tinder profile. You’re so serious in it…”

 

Now Steve is the color of a tomato, and Bucky is laughing so hard he’s gasping for air. He falls back on the blanket in his fit. 

 

“Speaking of serious,” Steve begins his retaliation, “You always pretend to be such a serious dude, but you make the worst jokes all the time!” 

 

“You’re the same way, only you come off as dumb and arrogant and model-like. You’re really just a softie. And also pretty awesome.” Bucky’s stopped laughing, but he’s still laying down.

 

“Really? I do?” Steve seems offended.

 

“But once I got to know you, I realized you’re really swell.” Bucky looks up at Steve seriously.

 

Steve smiles softly and lays down next to him. 

 

“So what do we do now?” Steve asks.

 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m planning on kissing you.” Bucky waits for Steve to respond that it’s okay, and that they’re no longer mad at each other before moving.

 

When they do kiss, it’s much softer than the last time, much less desperate. Instead, it’s slow and soft and sweet. 

 

Bucky wants time to stop moving; he just wants to stay there with Steve forever in the warmth their two bodies create. In his mind, he knows that soon enough, they will have to move from the blanket and the park. He knows there will be HR papers to sign and agents to speak with. He knows that there will be models that hate him and people that disapprove of their relationship. But he also knows that there will be more times like this, more cuddles and kisses and warmth. More pictures. 

 

So Bucky pictured them at the end of time.

 

Taking pictures of each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic, thank you for reading! I don't think I'm done writing in this universe, though, so keep your eyes peeled for some extras!!  
> A few final notes:  
> *Greenacre Park  
> *[Steve's outfit and pose in Central Park](http://68.media.tumblr.com/7d59b7c89cb83bc575fe8f26ab923937/tumblr_ooatzyMNPP1tqsknoo4_500.png)
> 
> Give the artist some love on [tumblr](lunarelles.tumblr.com)!!!  
> Find me on [tumblr](stevvenrogers.tumblr.com)  
> Read my other stuff [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/avenging_cap)!


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